


Tourniquet

by justwanderingneverlost



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Healing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Modern AU, POV Multiple, Personal Demons, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, R Plus L Does Not Equal J, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, broken people finding each other, but then it's on like donkey kong, jonno's in rough shape for a while, long hospital stay, lots of demons, lots of feels and tears, lots of medical hospital talk too, might get so sweet your teeth will be in peril of rotting, not sure you can call it that though, over half way through, smut doesn't happen for a long while, some might consider this a coffee house au, when i tagged it slow burn i really meant slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:37:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 123,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwanderingneverlost/pseuds/justwanderingneverlost
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen is a lost soul, her life filled with unimaginable loss and she's tired of fighting. Hanging at the end of her rope when bullets start flying, will she choose death, or the hope she sees in a stranger's eyes? Jon Snow didn't know grabbing a coffee would turn his life upside down. He didn't plan on making any life altering decisions when he walked through the doors either. But that's exactly what he has to do. When death is staring you down from the barrel of a gun, do you save yourself, or a woman you just met? Their paths now stitched together by one traumatic night, Jon and Dany must pick up the broken pieces. Can they do it together, or will Dany's demons be too much for them both?





	1. Oh, this is just my luck

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't planning on doing this today, but here I am. Before all my Heal readers groan because I've started another fic without finishing it first, do not fret!! This fic is written to completion already, I will only need to do editing/rewrites to each chapter. I'm not going to promise regular updates on it either. I will work on it between finishing Heal, Legends, and any other fics Ash and I might write. Psst, we already have a new one in the works ;)
> 
> Any who, I teased a snippet of this ages ago, maybe some of you remember it. Be warned, this is a heart-breaker, tear-jerker, angst filled slow burn! I do mean slow. This fic is so dear to my heart, I hope one day it will be to yours as well. Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Am I out of touch?_  
_Am I out of my place?_  
_When I keep saying that I'm looking for an empty space_

 

_Oh, I'm wishing you're here_  
_But I'm wishing you're gone_  
_I can't have you and I'm only gonna do you wrong_

 

_Oh, I'm going to mess this up_  
_Oh, this is just my luck_  
_Over and over and over again_

 

  _I'm sorry for everything_

_Oh, everything I've done_

 

 

_From the second that I was born it seems I had a loaded gun_  
_And then I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved_  
_Oh, I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that I loved_

 

_Am I out of luck?_  
_Am I waiting to break?_  
_When I keep saying that I'm looking for a way to escape_  
_Oh, I'm wishing I had what I'd taken for granted_  
_I can't help you when I'm only gonna do you wrong_

 

_Oh, I'm going to mess this up_  
_Oh, this is just my luck_  
_Over and over and over again_

 

  _I'm sorry for everything_

_Oh, everything I've done_

_From the second that I was born it seems I had a loaded gun_  
_And then I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved_  
_Oh, I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that I loved_

 

**Shots - Imagine Dragons**

 

 

 

 

This one came like all the rest–creeping and crawling over her skin with its needle feet. Up her legs, to her mouth, slithering in to twist her stomach in knots and squeeze the air from her lungs, its long fingers wrapped around her throat. All she could hear was the frantic pounding of her heart, the rush and roar of blood in her ears. She needed to run, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped.

That’s what panic is. The monster that cages you in, ties you down, laughing as you lay helpless in its grasp. You’re fine one minute, the next you’re huddled in a ball on the floor with cold sweat pouring from your skin while your ribs try to withstand the thrashing of your heart.

You’re left gasping for air that won’t come, while tears stream from your burning eyes. You tell yourself you’re not dying, but wonder if this isn’t death, what else could it possibly be?

She’d thought death was suppose to be peaceful, not this living hell. But the voices that whisper in her ear take joy in proving her wishful thinking false.

_“We’ve got you. You’re ours now. This is where you belong. You’re poison, Daenerys Targaryen. Cursed, no good. You don’t deserve happiness. They’re all gone because of you. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.”_

It was usually the pain that brought her back. Nails biting into flesh or teeth sinking into lips, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue, giving her something bright and blazing to cling to, distracting from the fear so she could fight back.

Each battle left her weaker than the one before. The relief of being let loose never lasted long. Just when she thinks her feet are steady the voices are there again, lurking in a memory, a picture, a smell.

This is her life, now. If one could even call it that.

  
~~~~~~~~~~

  
Her nerves were shot.

She eased her grip on the steering wheel again. She'd been driving for hours, going nowhere, day turning into night. She should've just went home, but the beauty that had been floating by outside her window had kept her moving forward. Live oaks with their mighty trunks and twisting branches that dripped with Spanish moss, the rows and rows of townhomes as pretty as Easter eggs in a basket surrounding lush green squares, a statue of some soldier or a fountain standing tall at every center. The thousands of azalea blooms in every shade of pink, the cobbled streets and pathways, and the _life_. This city was full of life despite its old age.

Savannah was indeed beautiful, and thank God for it, because it was a hell of a lot bigger than she thought it’d be and if she’d known there’d be this many people she would’ve stayed right where she was. The traffic was awful, so many one-ways and do-not-enters, zero parking, pedestrians everywhere, all daring you to hit them.

She needed coffee. Starbucks maybe. One of those caramel Frappuccinos. It would soothe her nerves a bit so she could actually get her errands run and stop driving in circles.

After another fifteen minutes of swearing and sweating, the elusive siren showed herself, glowing bright in the darkness. Miracle of the day achieved. The drive-thru, however... _wasn't there? What place doesn't have a drive-thru?_

Daenerys circled the block one more time to gather her courage, then pulled into the parking lot. She'd go inside even if it killed her.

_Maybe it will if I’m lucky._

With a few deep breaths for good measure, she got out of her rented truck and stepped into the warm, muggy night air. The blessed air-conditioning engulfed her as soon as she entered. It was only slightly more crowded than she thought it would be–five customers and two employees, and not a single one of them was paying her any attention. She could do this.

She stepped in line behind the two guys already at the register and let the rich aromas and mellow hipster tunes do their intended job of easing her nerves. They worked well enough, she barely even flinched when the harsh peal of the doorbell cut through her calm a few minutes later.

But she was clenching her fists and jaw to fight back  against the jolts of anxiety that wanted to take hold when someone stepped up behind her.

Willing her feet to stay put, she prayed for the guys in front of her to hurry the hell up. The sooner she got out the better. Apparently, they were ordering for their whole damn office.

After several more minutes of waiting, the person behind her let out a heavy sigh, standing close enough she felt their breath ruffle her ponytail. She took a small step forward.

“I just had to have another cup of coffee. I should’ve known better,” a deep voice muttered.

Deciding to be brave–normal people respond when they’re spoken to after all–she turned around to give him a smile of agreement and came face to face with one of, if not _the,_ prettiest men she’d ever seen.

A riot of black curls surrounded a handsome face–with a short scruffy beard to match. But it was his eyes that really caught her attention. They were so dark she’d swear a person could fall in them and never find a way out.

“You okay?” he asked, a crease of concern between said lovely eyes.

Dany shook herself free of her stupor and attempted to act normal. “I’m sorry... guess I’ve been waiting so long my brain short circuited. Did you say something?”

He waved off her apology and gave a chagrined laugh, a nervous hand tucking an unruly curl behind an ear. “It’s okay. I was just talking to myself. I said I should’ve known better than to come in here. I’m gonna be late now.”

She winced in empathy. “Um, I don’t have to be anywhere, you’re welcome to go ahead of me.”

He shook his head, his worried brow finally smoothing out. “Thank you, that’s really nice, but it’s okay,” he assured her. “My students can wait–they’re adults.”

“I don’t mind, really. Are you sure…?”

“Jon,” he answered, a soft smile pulling at his full lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

She was going to melt where she stood, she was sure of it.

“Hmm?”

“My name’s Jon Snow. Nice to meet you,” he said, his hand held out for her to shake.

She stared at it for a moment, almost unsure of what to do it had been so long. Finally, she slipped hers into his own and something odd swirled in her belly at the warmth of his calloused skin against hers. She swallowed and forced her eyes to his. “I’m Daenerys. Dany for short. Nice to meet you too,” she returned, offering a small smile, the quaver in her voice hopefully going undetected.

“Daenerys,” he tried, her unusual name sounding clumsy coming from his mouth, yet also strangely warm, comforting like a favorite blanket. “That's… _different_. Really pretty though,” he hurried to clarify, obviously chastising himself if the return of his brooding brow was any insight.

She smiled, hoping to ease his distress. “I get that a lot, but thank you,” she said, a tremor running through her as she pulled her hand from his.

More than a little unsettled, she turned back around, deciding to end whatever this was. But then she heard his feet shuffle and he leaned a little closer, his presence sending a shiver up her spine–not the bad kind either.

“I’m in here every evening, and I haven’t seen you before. Are you just visiting?” he asked softly.

Turning to face him again, she gave a strained smile. “Yes, I’m only here for a short stay. Just taking a few weeks off. Do you live here?”

 _Shit,_ she hadn’t meant to keep the conversation going _._

He nodded. “Been here all my life. I work at SCAD,” he told her, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

He’d somehow gotten more gorgeous with every second that passed and she couldn't seem to stop staring. He wasn't tall–but still taller than her, and well built, his muscles obvious beneath his white t-shirt. He was pale too, but beautifully so, not pasty or sickly. He had bone structure a Greek god would be jealous of, and a set of full pouty lips that were every bit as mesmerizing as his eyes.

What would Drogo think of her mooning over a complete stranger? _He’s dead, he doesn't think at all. Now quit acting like a crazy person, he’s trying to talk to you._

“I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with SCAD. What is it you do?”

“It’s the Savannah College of Art and Design. I teach furniture design there.”

“Oh, wow. That’s great. I’ve never thought about the fact that someone has to design our furniture. All my stuff are antiques. Do you do more modern pieces?” There she went again, asking questions. But she couldn't remember the last normal conversation she’d had and he was so nice to look at, she may as well enjoy the view while she could.

“Mostly yes, but I love antiques, too. I have a mix of old and modern in my own place. I insist my students learn the old techniques of furniture building, as well as the new…” he trailed off, looking away, his pretty face twisting with what seemed a sudden dose of regret. He even had a blush coloring his cheeks. He scratched at his beard and glanced at her. “More efficient, methods.”

Dany let her real smile come through a bit at his equal bouts of enthusiasm and embarrassment. “Sounds like you really love what you do. Congrats on that. Many people aren’t that lucky.”

He gave a cough and watched his own feet shift. “Thanks. I do consider myself lucky, in that aspect.” He rubbed his neck as he looked back up and his grin had turned into a breathtaking smile as he stared back at her. The sight sent another flurry dancing within her belly.

“Ma’am? Are you ready to order?” the barista asked, overly loud, making her jump.  

Her pretty new acquaintance scowled over her shoulder at said barista.  

Giggling like some love-struck teenager, Dany turned around and stepped up to the register, ready to get her Frappuccino and get away from this man that was causing all these mixed up feelings within her.

She hurried to finished up her order, rushing even more at the sudden commotion behind her as she dug in her purse for money. She passed the bills to the cashier with a shaking hand, but he ignored her, his eyes wide as saucers, staring past her, looking as if he had just stumbled upon his grave.

_What the hell? Did she slip into one of her spells or something?_

She yelped as she was pinned to the counter by a solid weight at her back. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand took a firm grip of her right arm.

“Be quiet and don’t move,” Jon Snow whispered.

Dany didn’t listen, peeking around his shoulder instead. Two men wearing all black with masks over their faces were standing in front of the door with a gun in each hand.

It looked as if she might die today whether she wanted to or not. Thing was, now that it was staring her in the face, she was pretty sure she didn’t.

  
  
~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
It’d been a good day. Gorgeous weather, perfect for the last day of classes before spring break. He’d been happy he was going to get to work on some of his own pieces while classes were out. Just him in his workshop with the dog to keep him company.

He’d only had one class left before he’d walked in. He should’ve left when he realized how long the wait was going be inside. But then she had turned around, and he’d decided his students wouldn’t mind if he was a few minutes late.

Jon had noticed her immediately, and not simply because she was standing right in front of him. He’d had a fleeting thought she would be pretty, with her curves wrapped tightly in those yoga pants and her long, wavy ponytail. She looked tiny compared to him, which was unusual given his own lack of height.

What he hadn’t been prepared for was her face. It’d been a good thing it had taken her a few seconds to answer him, because he’d needed a few himself.

She was stunning. Blue-green eyes in every shade of the ocean. Just as large and fathomless. With milky skin and hair as pale as moonlight she might as well have been a punch in the gut.

The most striking thing about her, though, had been the sadness he saw in those beautiful eyes. While she’d smiled a little, it didn’t reach them. It had made his heart ache a bit, and the urge he’d felt to wrap her in his arms was... shocking. Comforting people was _not_ his thing, especially a stranger.

So, instead he’d kept smiling, hoping she would, too. It had worked a little, at least until the barista had called her up. Her smile had disappeared, replaced by a look of nervousness–or had it been fear?

He didn't think he’d been too creepy _._ He’d certainly never meant to come off that way.

Then he’d noticed her wedding ring. It was no wonder she’d been uncomfortable. He’d taken a step back.

That’s when the racket had started behind him–what sounded like holiday shoppers storming a door. He looked over to see what was going on, and instantly knew his night was about to take a turn for the worst. Guys with masks and guns never made for a good time.

All his brain could come up with was: _who robs a Starbucks, and why the fuck would they need that much ammo to do it?_

His next thought was for Dany. She was someone’s wife and if she’d been his, he’d want someone to watch out for her in this fucked up situation.

So, that’s what he did. She had yelped and turned to him with a scathing glare when he pinned her to the counter, no doubt ready to bite his head off, but once she saw what was going on, she thought better of it.

The gunmen had been silent since the door closed behind them, but the one on the left–Thing One, Jon had dubbed him–finally cleared his throat, as if he didn’t have everyone’s attention already.

“Me and my friend here have some business with Marcus,” he announced, his voice calm enough to twist Jon’s worry up another notch as the man pointed toward the cashier behind Dany. “While I speak with him, my buddy’s gonna come around and visit with y’all. You’re gonna be real still for him, and give him anything you got–money, jewelry, phones. If you give him any trouble he’s got my permission to shoot ya. I’m gonna be watchin’ from the back. Don’t be gettin’ any smart ideas,” he said, pointing his guns at all of them as he made his way behind the counter.

Thing Two got a case of the giggles as Thing One grabbed Marcus by the back of the shirt, shoved one of his guns into the base of his skull, and began marching the poor bastard toward the back of the store.

“Keep your shit together, idiot, and do your job! You’ll be the one gettin’ shot if you don’t,” Thing One barked at him before disappearing with Marcus.

What that kid could have done to have these two after him, Jon couldn’t imagine.

“You all heard him! Time to pay up!” Thing Two shouted with sickening glee, rushing at the customer to his left. “You first, old man.”

This guy was either crazy as a shit house rat, or high as a fucking kite, neither of which were good for them. Jon wasn't sure whether to be relieved or anxious that he’d started furthest away from him and Dany. If he kept going left, they'd be his last targets. That could be good or bad. They'd find out soon enough.

No longer having a gun pointed at him, his mind registered Dany pulling on the side of his shirt, and her erratic breathing. Never taking his eyes off Thing Two, Jon very slowly took a small step forward, allowing her to turn around and move to his side. He stopped her with his left hand on her hip before she got too far. He was going keep her behind him if it killed him.

He doubted she was aware of it, but she had a death grip on the back of his shirt. He reached behind him with his other hand and pulled it away and into his own, giving it a squeeze. Thankfully, her breathing slowed. They didn’t need any panicking. Lord knows they probably all wanted to, but now was not the time. So far, the other customers had behaved and given up their valuables. Thing Two had already finished up with guy number three. He and Dany were next.

“All right, pretty boy, time for you and sweet thing here to give it up,” he said, his grinning and wild-eyed, as he walked over and stuck the barrel of one of his guns to Jon’s chest. He flicked the other one in Dany’s direction. “No funny business, or she’ll pay for it and it won't be fun. Might be for me though.”

Jon slowly let Dany go, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, and held it out. Thing Two moved the gun from Jon’s chest, using it to open the bag hanging across his torso. Jon dropped his wallet in as he watched those wild eyes go to Dany.

“Phone and keys, boy. Drop ‘em in the bag nice and slow,” Thing Two ordered, eyes never leaving Dany. The sickening smile twisting the man’s face turned Jon’s stomach, but he did as asked, praying the crazy fucker wasn’t going to take things any further.

As Jon dropped his keys and phone into the bag, he turned enough so that he could see Dany for the first time since this fiasco started. Their eyes met for a few seconds, clearly telling each other to hang on. She was scared, but holding it together. There were no tears–as one might expect–instead, her eyes flashed with anger as Thing Two returned the muzzles of the guns back to his chest.

Yelling erupted at the back of the store, which could not be good. Jon did his best to ignore it and stay calm. Unfortunately, it seemed to rile up Thing Two, and he poked Jon with the gun a few more times.

“You’re gonna stay right there pretty boy while me and your fine-lookin’ piece of ass have a little talk.” He sneered, rubbing his other gun down the side of Dany’s cheek. She didn’t so much as flinch, but Jon did as the barrel slid down her neck. “Why don’t I take you with me when we leave? You’re pretty enough, and seem to mind well. I sure would like to fuck these tits you got,” he whispered, running his gun down between her breasts. “After I tear up that cunt of yours first.”

Jon was gonna fucking kill him.

“I’d rather die than let scum like you touch me,” Dany hissed, her face contorted with disgust.

A shot echoed from the back as Thing Two’s eyes dilated to black, his hand raising to backhand her.

Jon smacked the gun from his chest and it went off, his ears ringing loud as sirens, but he still managed to shove Dany behind him, stopping the bastard from hitting her. The move took Thing Two by surprise for only a few seconds before he had both guns pointed at them again.

Jon thought he might have been yelling at them too, but he couldn’t tell with the incessant ringing going on inside his head. Dany yanked and pulled at him from behind while he watched–time slowing to a crawl–as two other men rushed Thing Two. Bright lights flashed and blinded his eyes, a quick smattering of muffled pops and cracks filtering through the buzz in his brain. Jon turned and scooped Dany up, dropping them to the floor, knowing what those sounds had to mean.

He registered her screams, but only because he could feel them reverberating in his chest. Then searing pain ripped through his back and side, his leg. He ignored it all and gripped her tighter.

“I’ve got you, Dany. I’ve got you.”

 

 


	2. I'm bleeding out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany waits at the hospital for news on Jon's condition and meets one of his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Finally got mine and Frost's schedules to meet and here's another chapter for you. We're going to attempt one chapter a week, but don't hold us to that promise, real life and all that jazz. But we're both super pumped and excited, so hopefully that helps keep us on a roll :)
> 
> I have to give Frost a HUGE thank you for taking this beta job on. I originally wrote this well over two years ago(I sucked then, btw), and while I've rewritten a good portion on my own, it has still needed lots of work. Ashley helped me realize I needed to step back and really rewrite, not just fluff. I was hanging onto the past too much. So with that loving kick in the tail I really went to work. Then Frost dug in like a champ and helped me make it even better. So thank you Ashley and Frost! I loves you!!!
> 
> And this chapter is for Meg, she knows why. Love ya girl! <3

 

 

I'm bleeding out  
Said if the last thing that I do  
Is to bring you down  
I'll bleed out for you  
So I bare my skin  
And I count my sins  
And I close my eyes  
And I take it in  
And I'm bleeding out  
I'm bleeding out for you (for you)

 When the day has come  
But I've lost my way around  
And the seasons stop and  
hide beneath the ground  
When the sky turns gray  
And everything is screaming  
I will reach inside  
Just to find my heart is beating

 You tell me to hold on  
Oh, you tell me to hold on  
But innocence is gone  
And what was right is wrong

'Cause I'm bleeding out  
Said if the last thing that I do  
Is to bring you down  
I'll bleed out for you  
So I bare my skin  
And I count my sins  
And I close my eyes  
And I take it in  
And I'm bleeding out  
I'm bleeding out for you (for you)

 When the hour is nigh  
And hopelessness is sinking in  
And the wolves all cry  
To feel they're not worth hollering  
When your eyes are red  
And emptiness is all you know  
With the darkness fed  
I will be your scarecrow

 You tell me to hold on  
Oh you tell me to hold on  
But innocence is gone  
And what was right is wrong

 'Cause I'm bleeding out  
Said if the last thing that I do  
Is to bring you down  
I'll bleed out for you  
So I bare my skin  
And I count my sins  
And I close my eyes  
And I take it in  
And I'm bleeding out  
I'm bleeding out for you (for you)

 

Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons

 

The first damn day she’d braved leaving the house and it had turned into total chaos. She’d always told Tyrion she was cursed–he might actually believe her now. As if her past wasn’t enough proof, the only two people who’d spoken to her that day were in the hospital being operated on.

Marcus, the cashier, had been shot in the leg by the gunman who'd taken him to the back of the store. She’d heard one of the paramedics say something about his femur being shattered, that he was lucky he didn't bleed out.

Another barista, Meg, was her name if Dany remembered right–a sweet, beautiful redhead who held her hand as the paramedics had worked on Jon. She had been the one who ran into the back office before the gunmen saw her and called 911. _And_ she’d had the balls to sneak up behind Asshole Number One and knock him out cold with an espresso tamper. Unfortunately, for Marcus, the gun went off in the process.

Then there was Jon Snow, the beautiful man who'd saved her life. The one who’d had her tied in nervous, giddy knots before those two fuckers showed up and ruined their day. The one who had protected her from all those flying bullets–four of which the surgeons were attempting to remove from his body as she sat waiting.

They’d taken him straight to the trauma unit when they’d arrived and onto surgery from there. Three long hours ago. After she had given the police her statement and the ER doctor released her–with a bandage on her head and a pain pill to swallow–a nurse had walked her to the surgical waiting room and left her.

They all believed she was Jon’s fiancée, and thankfully hadn’t asked her any questions she couldn’t bullshit her way through. She was afraid if she told them the truth they wouldn’t let her see him. She had to know he was okay, then she'd leave.

She’d paced the floor, chewed her nails, and counted the ceiling and floor tiles a hundred times trying to keep the flood of panic at bay and, so far, it had worked. She honestly couldn’t believe it considering the day she'd had. Maybe her brain knew she needed to be level-headed throughout this, and was waiting until it was all over to short-circuit.

She’d just sat down to start counting the ceiling tiles again when a man’s voice filtered through the door from the nurse’s station.

“I’m here to see about Jon Snow.” Heart in her throat, Dany leaned over, straining to hear. “They told me downstairs he was in surgery. Can you tell me how he’s doing?”

“Last update we received he was stable, but still critical,” the nurse answered him. “They should be finishing up soon. His fiancée is in the waiting room over there. I’m sure she would appreciate the company.”

“Fiancée?” the man asked, clearly confused.

 _Shit._ She felt like a deer in the headlights. _Did she run or stay put?_

“Yes sir, she’s right over there in the waiting room.”

Dany was surprised it had taken his family so long to get there, but the jig was up now. Maybe if she begged they’d let her stay long enough to know Jon was going to make it.

She attempted to look as worried as possible– which wasn’t hard at all since she was a nervous wreck anyway. The man’s footsteps drew closer, hard rubber soles squeaking over clean linoleum, each one louder than the last. They stopped not far from her. She glanced up to find a young guy staring back at her. He took a few more steps into the room. He didn't favor Jon much at all.

His hair was a lighter brown, short and straight, eyes a bright, clear blue. He was as fit as Jon though, but definitely not old enough to be his dad. A brother or cousin maybe?

“You’re Jon’s fiancée?” he asked, his Southern accent thick. “I’m his friend, Gendry.”

_Phew. Not family. Maybe this would be a little less awkward._

“Daenerys Targaryen,” she said, reaching to shake his hand.

“Uh, sorry. Just came from the shop.” He held out his hands, palms up, they were rough and covered in black powdery grime. Soot? “Don't want to get you dirty,” he said, sheepish.

She retracted her offered hand, her eyes catching on it as she did. It was still stained with blood. Jon’s blood. Bright streaks of it, neon signs of her guilt–turned nearly black under her nails. She dropped it to her lap and pulled her shirt over it, gripping the material in her fist.

She swallowed at the choking knot in her throat and looked back up at Jon's friend. “I’m sure you know this, but um, I’m not actually his fiancée. I was just there when it happened. The paramedics just kind of… assumed,” she rushed out, spilling words as quick as a naughty child covering their tracks. “He saved my life today, and I really need to know he’s okay. And I want to thank him.” Her breath was gone by the end. _Believe me, please._

Gendry sat down across from her, looking her over a bit. Not in a creepy way, just trying to size her up, she thought. He gave a warm smile. “Your secret's safe with me.”

Daenerys let out a rush of air and pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. “Thank you. I really appreciate that, but what about his family. Do you think they’ll kick me out of here?”

He shook his head. “Other than a few cousins, Jon doesn’t have much family. His parents are dead. Robb lives close by, and Sansa isn't far either, but Arya’s overseas right now. I’m sure none of them would have any problems with you staying though,” he told her.

“Good, because I would really like to stay. Have you called his cousins? I'm sure they’d want to know.”

“Already done,” Gendry answered with a small smile on his face. “Robb’ll be here soon. He'll tell Sansa. And I left a message with Arya to call me. She’s probably asleep. She’ll be on the next plane once she finds out.”

Dany nodded and glanced up at the clock on the wall. Three hours and twenty-four minutes.

_Why was it taking so long?_

“Can you tell me what happened? If it’s not too much that is,” Gendry asked. “The police wouldn’t tell me much.”

“Oh, um, sure. Sorry. We, ah, we were just standing there…”

Another half hour passed while Dany filled Gendry in on what had happened as best she could, before a nurse finally walked in the door, sending Dany's heart to lodge in her throat. She jumped up and hurried over to her, Gendry slowly following.

“Is he okay?” Dany asked, her voice coming out squeakier than intended.

The nurse nodded. “He’s out of surgery and stable.”

“Oh, thank God.” Her knees buckled with relief. She caught herself on the arm of a chair. Gendry's hand gripped her elbow until she righted herself.

“They’re moving him up to intensive care right now to monitor him,” the nurse went on. “I’ll take you up there. The doctor will come speak to you both, okay? Y’all can follow me.” She walked out the door and took them upstairs to ICU and straight to the waiting room. “Wait here while I go get Margaery. She’s his nurse tonight. I hope he recovers quickly,” she said with a gentle smile, before disappearing down another long, empty hallway.

A TV hung on the back wall, the volume low, an overly pretty blond smiling out of the screen, several news tickers passing quickly beneath her. In the far corner sat an older couple, holding hands, with wearied and worried faces. She and Gendry picked two chairs across from one another under the TV to give them space, and tried to relax.

It didn’t work, at least not for her. She felt as if she had live wires for legs. They kept bouncing and trembling beyond her control. She must’ve looked like a three-year-old trying to sit still in church.

Gendry reached out and hovered his hand over one of her knees. “He’s gonna to be okay. Jon’s a strong guy, physically and mentally. He’ll pull through this,” he said with a confident nod. “All of us that know Jon worry about him, but he always gets back up.”

Dany chewed on her left thumb nail, the right one already torn to the quick. “I hope you're right. After the day I’ve had I just can’t sit still. I feel like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, you know? I think I’ll be able to relax when I see him for myself.”

He let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, me too.”

A hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Hi, I’m Margaery.” Dany nearly jumped out of her skin. A beautiful woman stood above her, remorse clear in her features. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Your nerves are probably on edge after the day you’ve had, huh?” she apologized, rubbing Dany’s shoulder.

Dany gave her an anxious smile and a nod. “Sorry. I’m Dany and this is Jon’s friend, Gendry,” she introduced them. “How is he? Can we see him?”

Margaery sat down beside her, taking her hand in hers and squeezing it. She was very touchy feely, but Dany liked her already. “He’s resting well, his heartbeat is real strong. He won’t wake up for a while yet, probably not til tomorrow morning at the earliest. I already have the pain meds going, so if he does wake up he won’t be hurting. We’re going to take real good care of him for you, sweetheart,” she finished, giving her hand a few pats.

“Thank you,” Dany whispered.

The woman rubbed her back. “Everything will be alright. That pretty man is going to be home with you again real soon. I promise.”

Imagining Jon at home with her twisted Dany’s stomach in crazy ways. Some good, others not. Gendry’s smothered grin didn’t help matters. She grabbed a tissue off the table beside her, blowing her nose as ladylike as possible.

Margaery smiled and patted her leg before standing up. “Dr. Bergeron should be here to speak with you both soon. Once he’s talked to you I can take you to see Jon one at a time, alright?”

She and Gendry nodded, and thanked her, then waited some more. After a few minutes she glanced over at him only to find him staring at her quizzically.

“What? Do I have snot on my face or something?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No ma’am, no snot. I was just thinking if I didn’t know any better, I would believe your fiancée story without a doubt. You’re either a real good actress, or you got a kind heart. I’m leaning toward the last one.”

She froze, his words stunning her to silence. Had she stepped from one twilight zone into another today? First Jon and now him? _Who were these people?_ Jon making her deadened heart, spark and sputter with something very much like feelings–ones she wasn't even remotely ready to dig into. Both of them picking at the frayed edges of the paper-thin walls she surrounded herself with, tearing off pieces, finding the secrets she kept desperately hidden away.

Gendry had just found one of her biggest: Daenerys Targaryen, Actress. That's exactly what she was. Becoming a proficient one was the only way she had managed to survive. To pretend. Pretend she wasn't broken. Pretend the pain was normal, or not there at all. Telling people what they wanted to hear, smiling when expected. A thousand _I'm fine's_ slipping past her lips–every one of them a lie.

And all done to hide a heart that was long since dead. Numb to it all.

People don't want to hear about pain. They only have so much time to spare for anyone else's problems but their own. They allow you a few weeks, months, maybe a year at most, then they're done. Their sympathy has a limit, go past it and you're no longer grieving, you're just crazy.

Gendry cleared his throat, bringing her back. He had a blush on his cheeks and was fidgeting in his seat. “I'm sorry, I didn't—”

His eyes darted behind her, surprise washing over his face. She turned to see an older man dressed in blue scrubs had walked in. They both stood.

“Miss Targaryen?” She nodded and the doctor gave a small smile. “I’m Dr. Bergeron, Jon's surgeon,” he introduced himself.

“How is he?” she asked.

“Mr. Snow is going to have a long recovery, but barring any complications, he’ll be back to rights in a few months.”

Gendry stepped up to her side, his face distraught. “A few _months?_ It was that bad?”

Doctor Bergeron pressed his lips together and gave a solemn nod. “I won't lie to you. He's lucky to be alive. Most people don't survive four gunshot wounds. The bullet that grazed his head amazingly didn’t do too much damage, other than gouging the skull. I’ve never seen anything like it before. That shot coming from such a close range should have killed him instantly.”

“Jesus Christ,” Gendry breathed out, his hands running over his head.

Dany wrapped her arms around herself and stepped back, Gendry's fear and pain a wave threatening to break over her.

“The second shot went in his left shoulder,” the doctor continued after giving Gendry a moment. “It broke his shoulder blade into a few pieces, before lodging in his chest. Missed his heart by only a fraction. Another went in his mid-back. We had to remove his spleen and take out a small section of his intestines because of that one.

“The last got his leg. Shattered his tibia, broke the fibula in half. We got the bullet fragments out, but our orthopedic surgeon won’t be here to operate on it until Monday. We cleaned it up as best we could, and have it immobilized.”

“Wait,” Gendry cut in, “He'll need another surgery?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so,” the doctor confirmed. “With such complex fractures it’s best to let the swelling go down before they operate. We’ll have to watch him very close for infection, but he should be out of immediate danger in a few days,” he finished.

“Should be?” Gendry echoed.

Bergeron tucked a hand under his arm, rubbed at his jaw with the other, his eyes bouncing between her and Gendry. “His chances of complete recovery are good, don't misunderstand, but there's always a chance of complications. I'd be remiss not to make you aware of that. But I assure you, we'll do everything we can to have him back on his feet as soon as possible.”

Daenerys heard all of it, but somewhere after Gendry's _‘Jesus Christ’_ she'd sunk beneath the surface, under an enormous crush, the roar of it dulling her senses. With each new injury revealed she was pushed further down, pinned deeper.

Doctor Bergeron was staring at her, waiting for something. “Thank you,” she whispered, the sentiment wholly inadequate, but all she had.

Gendry came to her rescue and shook his hand, and asked if they could see Jon.

“Sure, I’ll let the nurses know you’re ready to see him. Hang in there,” he said with a wave, “I'll see you over the next few days.”

They didn't speak once he left, both rooted in place by the weight of it all. Margaery walked in a few minutes later and came straight to Dany and rubbed her arms. “You ready to see him?”

“Yes. Please!”

_Geez, that was a bit too quick and enthusiastic for her liking._

Margaery gave her a smile and waved toward the door. “Follow me. As long as you both don’t stay too long you can go in together.”

They trailed behind her, the knots in Dany's stomach growing tighter with each step closer she took toward his room.

_Please God, don’t let me have an attack. Keep it together Dany, for a little while longer. Breathe. Breathe._

Margaery slid open the big glass door and the beeping and swooshing of machines flooded out. Dany's heart and feet faltered, but Gendry's hand on her back got her through the door. She knew the sight of him wouldn’t be pretty, but she still wasn’t prepared for what she saw once Margaery drew the curtain back.

Her hand went to her mouth to muffle an involuntary whimper. Margaery walked across the room and Gendry came up to her side.

“Dammit, Jon,” he whispered as soon as he got a good look at him.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself before she circled the bed, giving Gendry a wide berth. The clicks and whirrs of the machines were almost too much for her. The sharp sting of disinfectant burned her nose and twisted her stomach. She fought against the urge to run from the room, forcing her feet forward instead.

Jon had been so full of life just hours ago. His lovely chestnut eyes had sparkled with happiness as they’d talked of not much at all. Now, he was laying in a bed, hooked up to machines, and so very still.

His beautifully pale skin was a dull, ashy gray. The right side of his head was wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through them. They did nothing to hide the swelling or the bruises already making their way across his handsome face.

She'd wondered for a split second earlier that day what he would look like under his white shirt, but she had never wanted to see him as he was now–covered in bandages and stained black and blue everywhere else. But his leg was the worst, bound in a splint that hung from the ceiling, the wounds open and oozing. It looked as if the doctor had never touched it.

“Do you guys have any questions?” Margaery asked quietly. Never looking away from Jon, Dany shook her head and faintly heard Gendry say ‘no’. “I’ll give you a few minutes then. I’ll be right outside if you need me,” she told them, rubbing Dany's back before walking out.

Dany wasn't sure what possessed her, but she slowly leaned over and kissed Jon’s forehead, whispering a ‘thank you’ against his cool and clammy skin. Standing back up, she looked down at him. He confused her so, even more a stranger now, with his battlefield of bruises and bloodstains, but she couldn't walk away. Her fingers slipped into his limp curls, seemingly of their own will.

She stood there, at the side of his bed, her mind locked and buzzing, the full enormity of his injuries making her feel impossibly sick and wretched.

His life is ruined. She’d ruined it. She wasn't worth this. _Why? Why would he do this? For her?_

The bitter edge of bile creeped up her throat. Something like anger burned within her, but she couldn’t be sure. She felt the clot of it form heavy in her stomach, the sob building at the top of her lungs. She shook her head. “Why?”

She hadn’t even realized she'd spoken out loud, until Gendry responded.

“Jon never has reasons for the things he does,” his friend said sadly, his eyes never really leaving Jon’s face. “He just does them. Because that’s who he is. A good person.”

She sucked in a mighty breath. A good person. Was there such a thing, anymore?

Gendry cleared his throat. “I know… I know you two don’t know each other well, but–” he winced, shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m tryin’ to say… but I feel like he would want–” He huffed a pained breath, closing his eyes. “Jon needs good people in his life. And he needs that now more than ever.”

Dany felt herself go cold. Was he trying to say she was this good person?

“You could stay.”

 _Stay?_ That simple word made her feel as if she’d been spun about in a stormy sea and dashed against the rocks.

Despite it being the last thing she felt she'd wanted, for years now, it's what she'd done. _Stayed_ , from one day to the next. She was a killer on death row. Her _stay_ of execution granted, over and over again.

Just that morning, as her hand had hovered near the green bottle of pills for what felt like hours, something flamed within her and she'd snatched up her keys instead and left the house. She'd told herself she might as well go out happy, a bottle or two of wine to wash them down with was all she needed. But she never bought the wine, instead driving for hours, aimlessly. _Staying._ Those little pills called for her to go back, tinny voices buzzing within her head, hour after hour, promising an end to all the pain, offering sweet oblivion. All she had to do was go back.

But she didn't go back. She’d went for coffee. Once more, _staying._

Now, here she was, staring at a man who'd nearly given his life just so she could stay another day.

Gendry put a careful hand on her shoulder. She looked up, startled. He let her go, shoving his hand into his pockets. “At least stay till he wakes up. So he can see for himself that he saved you. He'd want that. To see you with his own eyes.”

She couldn’t hold his pleading gaze, dropping her eyes back to Jon. She marveled at the way her fingers were caressing his cheek all on their own. She hadn’t touched a man in so long.

_God, what was she doing?_

_Staying._

“Alright,” she choked out, “I’ll stay.”


	3. Breathe in, breathe out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of the night finally hit Dany and she meets some of Jon's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Real life threw a wrench in my plans. I'm afraid this chapter might have to last you a couple weeks. The next one needs lots of work and I'm swamped with wedding chaos at the moment. Twelve days and counting though! It's almost over. I will be working on this, along with Heal and Legends, and a one-shot that bit me over the weekend, but I don't want to promise any certain time on an update. Hate breaking those, so it's best I don't make them. 
> 
> Regardless, please enjoy and let me know what you think <3 
> 
> Oh! And big thanks to Frost for the beta work! She gave me the loving nudges I needed to whip it into shape. Love you, Frost!

 

 

It feels like falling.  
It feels like rain.  
Like losing my balance  
Again and again.

It once was so easy;  
Breathe in, breathe out.  
But at the foot of this mountain,  
I only see clouds.

I feel out of focus,  
Or at least indisposed  
As this strange weather pattern  
Inside me takes hold.

Each brave step forward,  
I take three steps behind.  
It's mind over matter -  
Matter over mind.

Slowly, then all at once.  
A single loose thread  
And it all comes undone.

Where there is light,  
A shadow appears.  
The cause and effect  
When life interferes.

The same rule applies  
To goodness and grief;  
For in our great sorrow  
We learn what joy means.

I don't want to fight, I don't want to fight it.  
I don't want to fight, I don't want to fight it.  
I don't want to fight, I don't want to fight it.  
But I will learn to fight, I will learn to fight,  
'Til this pendulum finds equilibrium.

Slowly, then all at once.  
The dark clouds depart,  
And the damage is done.  
So pardon the dust  
While this all settles in.  
With a broken heart,  
Transformation begins.

Sorrow - Sleeping at Last

 

She leaned against the wall outside Jon's doorway and let herself sink to the floor with a sob. There was no stopping the tears this time. Her brain and body were in the midst of a serious meltdown. Gendry hurried to sit with her, but she waved him off as nicely as she could. Thankfully, he walked away, giving her some space.

Wrapping her arms around her knees, she buried her face between them and let the sobs wrack her body. She cried for her family, already lost. She cried for Jon, who’d been fighting to live all day, and would fight for months to get back the life he'd had. She cried because she wanted to die, because she almost had, and because she wanted to live.

There was no telling how long she’d been there, balled up on the tiled floor, nothing but a blubbering mess, before Margaery squatted down beside her and rubbed her back. “Oh honey. You’ve held up so well today, and have been so strong. Why don’t you come with me? We’ll get you off this floor, and find somewhere for you to lay down for a little while, okay?”

Dany took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. Margaery helped her up, offering a hand full of tissues, which Dany accepted gratefully. Once she got her face somewhat cleaned, she looked around to see how badly she’d embarrassed herself, but the other nurses were all busy with their patients, and Gendry was pacing outside the ICU doors on his phone.

“I should probably... talk to Gendry... in case...” she sputtered before drawing in another shaky breath, trying to calm herself.

Margaery wrapped an arm around her waist and gently pulled her towards the nurses’ station. “Let’s get you settled back here, and I’ll go get him for you, alright?”

“Okay.” She worked to calm her breathing as Margaery lead her into a room with a couple of sofas, lockers, and a small kitchen.

“This is our break room. You’re not supposed to be back here, but we’re gonna make an exception today.” She helped Dany sit on one of the sofas and went over to the lockers. “There’s a bathroom over there you can use to wash up in, and here’s a pair of scrubs you can put on.” She passed a bright blue pair to her. “I’m sure you want outta those bloody clothes. Then you can get some rest. I’m not letting you drive home as tired as you are. You can rest first, visit Jon again, and then we’ll see if you’re up to leaving.”

“Leaving? Drive?” she echoed, confused. _Why would she leave? She had to stay, she was supposed to stay._

She was on her feet, as if tugged by a thread. An uncontrollable terror began to fill her, threatening to smother her. A cold sweat broke out over her skin. She sucked in a great breath. “I don’t have my truck. My truck’s still at Starbucks. My purse, my phone. They’re all still there. I can’t leave! I can’t leave him! I can’t! I have to stay!”

Margaery stepped into her path, holding up her hands. “Dany, it's alright.”

She was panting now, her heart thrashing and swelling. She shook her head, taking fist fulls of Margaery's shirt. “It's not, it's not.”

Margaery lead her back to the sofa and pushed her down. Kneeling in front of her, she cupped Dany’s face in her hands. They were cold and soft against her skin. A tiny crack split into the panic. “Dany, look at me. Look at my eyes. I need you to breathe for me. Take a deep breath, and let it out.”

She latched onto Margaery's voice, her touch, her eyes, and tried, but her lungs were frozen, refusing to work. She grabbed Margaery's arms. _Please, please, please. Help me._

Margaery’s cold hand pressed against her chest. “Try again. In, and out. Do it with me.”

Dany tried again and this time, a trifling trickle of blessed air reached her lungs.

“Yes, that’s it, take another one,” Margaery encouraged. “Slow, deep breath, now let it out.” _Breathe in, breathe out._ “Good girl. Look at me. Keep breathing, Dany. In and out. In and out.” _Breathe, breathe._ “You got it. One more time, honey. In... and out.”

Dany closed her eyes and took yet another deep breath. Her fears finally began the creeping crawl back to their cages.

“That's good, Dany. One more,” Margaery continued to coach her. “I'm not going to make you leave. You can stay right here. Just keep breathing for me. In and out. In and out. You got it. One more time, honey. In... and out.”

The prickling across her skin started to fade, the pounding in her ribs slowed.

She opened her eyes and saw sympathy and concern written over Margaery's face. The tears took over, then. “I’m sorry,” Dany whispered. “I’m such a mess.”

Margaery squeezed her hands. “No, Dany. You are not a mess, honey. You have just been through hell and back today.”

She collapsed back onto the cot, exhausted, her limbs weak and tingling. “I can’t... do this again.”

Margaery stood up and walked to the sink, coming back with a cloth. She gently wiped at her face with it. It was soothing and cool. “Can’t what, sweetheart? What can’t you do again?” she asked softly, brushing Dany’s hair back and pressing the washcloth to her heated skin.

“I can’t... lose anyone else. It’s my fault they died. It’s my fault that… Jon’s dying too,” she whimpered, breath hitching, the sounds pitiful even to her own ears.

“Shh, it is not your fault. Jon is not dying, Dany. He’s gonna make it through this, okay? I promise you. You need to rest now, honey. Your body is so tired and your mind needs to slow down so your heart can have some peace, too. Let yourself sleep. Everything will be alright soon. I promise. Sleep now,” Margaery cooed at her, still playing with her hair.

Dany didn’t want to sleep, but it was all too much. She couldn’t fight the fear and exhaustion anymore. She let her eyes close and concentrated on Margaery's calming voice until darkness took her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

She woke with a start, heart pounding, sweat covering her face.

_Fabulous. Another nightmare to add to her playlist. Not only did she get to relive her usual one over and over again, now she got to see Jon get filled full of bullets, too. Fuck her life._

Sitting up, she swung her feet to the floor and groaned. Her entire body felt as if it had been beaten with a baseball bat. She stretched in hopes of working out some of the soreness, but it didn’t help. The clock over the kitchenette said 2:34. She assumed A.M. She felt anything but rested.

The scrubs Margaery had given her were still lying at the end of the sofa. She picked them up and headed to the bathroom. She really did need to change.

She sighed heavily as soon as she saw the shower stall. Just the thought of a hot shower was heavenly. It took a minute or so to figure out the hot water. She'd heard someone say once that you’re only smart until you have to use someone else’s shower. She agreed with that statement.

Thankfully, she got it going fairly quick, and left it to do its thing. She squeezed her eyes shut and stripped out of her clothes. They were covered in Jon’s blood. Stuffing them in the trash can, she bit her lip to dam the welling tears, and stepped under the hot water.

Before long, she was groaning in relief. The aches and pains in her body began to melt away, the knots loosening. She could easily give into the idea of staying right where she was. The desire to sit down under the spray and just cry, was fierce, but she fought against it. She’d cried enough for one day.

Shower finished, she dried off, and slipped into the scrubs. They were a little big, but once she tightened the drawstring they worked fine. She couldn’t find a brush anywhere, so she towel dried her hair, and ran her fingers through it as best she could. She was as presentable as she would get.

Now to see if she had enough courage to face Margaery and Gendry again. She’d be relieved if Gendry had already left. She hated how people looked at her once they knew. The long wary stares and judging eyes. He was a nice guy, but he may have changed his mind about her after seeing her meltdown.

She made her way out of the break room and to the nurses’ station. The nurse sitting there gave her a kind smile. “Hey, there. Look who’s up,” she said, a little too cheerfully.

Dany smiled weakly. “Hi.”

“Your fiancé is resting, and still doing well. I just checked on him. Margaery is out in the waiting room with his friends and family giving them an update, if you want to join them,” she told her.

“Thank you.”

She’d said _friends and family._ Dany was not too keen on the idea of meeting more people, but it didn’t seem she had much of a choice. She slipped through the ICU doors, and down the hall. She was almost to the waiting room when a male voice echoed out into the hallway.

“Dany? Who the hell is Dany?”

She stopped in her tracks, just outside the door, breath catching and heart pounding.

“I don’t know much about her, Robb.”

“Seriously, Gendry? You haven’t checked her out yet?”

“I’ve been a little busy,” Gendry retorted, “She’s just worried about Jon, feels like him getting hurt is all her fault. She’s staying around to make sure he’s okay, which is completely reasonable given the situation. You need to calm down.”

“ _Calm down?_ Did you not tell us a few minutes ago she faked being his fiancée to get up here?” Robb again. He was awful growly.

“Yeah, I did, but I also told you she fessed up the minute she met me. I don’t think she’s trying to hide anything, or get something out of this. She only wants to know he’s gonna be alright. He saved her life today for heaven’s sake. Why wouldn’t she?” Gendry asked, an irritated edge to his tone.

“How do we know she wasn’t in on the robbery, huh? She could know about Jon’s money, be using this ploy to cover up her scam to rob him blind,” Robb spit back. “Don’t forget the little crying fit she performed for you, probably to get your sympathy. I bet she talked to one of his flings, and decided to take him for a ride. She probably put on a show for him too. I can’t think of any other reason for him to be so stupid, risking his life like that,” he hissed.

Alright, she was getting mad now. That asshole had no right to assume that of her. He didn’t know her from Adam. And how dare he say anything against Jon?!

While Dany fumed, someone else scoffed and another laughed and Margaery suddenly appeared in Dany's line of sight, as if making a hasty exit. She stopped when she spotted Dany, a number of emotions flitting across her face. She finally tilted her head and gave Dany the slightest of smiles before turning around and returning to the waiting room.

_What was she doing? Surely she wouldn't tell them about her attack, would she? God, please don't._

“Robb, you’ve been watching too many crime shows,” a new voice cut through her thoughts. “We all know how Jon is. Do you really think some woman could’ve stopped him from taking those bullets for her if he decided he was going to protect her?”

“Sam, forgive me, but shut up! I’m looking out for Jon. Nobody else here seems to be.”

“He’s right, Robb. Jon’s as honorable as they come. Pretty or not, he would’ve kept her safe despite the risk to himself,” Gendry said. “And you _know_ that as well as the rest of us.”

Dany watched Margaery step further into the room until she disappeared from her sight and her heart went into stuttering skips, a chill rushing over her.

“Sir, I know this isn't my business, but I really think you’re wrong about Dany, as well,” Margaery said. Her voice held no judgement, just soft concern. Dany let herself take a breath. “She was not faking anything in my opinion. She’s been through something, _before_ tonight. I can only imagine how much a violent robbery must have added to whatever that was. Regardless, her concern for Jon is genuine, I truly believe that.”

Dany allowed a moment of relief to take her, letting out a rush of air, and forced her tense muscles to relax. She'd have to buy Margaery something nice as a thank you for all she’d done for her today. She was a good soul. Gendry needed a hug for being a good friend to Jon, too.

Someone sighed heavily, she assumed this ‘Robb’. “Fine. I’ll give her a chance,” he mumbled, “but don’t think I’m gonna be trusting her blindly like the rest of you. She’s gonna have to earn mine.”

Dany understood he was looking out for his cousin, as he should be, but _damn_ he was a hard-ass. She might as well start earning that trust though. Taking a deep breath, Dany straightened her spine and walked into the room.

“Um, hi,” she squeaked and waved like an idiot.

All eyes turned to her. Gendry shot to his feet, surprised, and maybe a little embarrassed. Margaery was a picture of understanding, and the other guy–Sam, she guessed–seemed genuinely happy to see her. Robb, on the other hand, was glowering at her like some disgruntled brute.

He was built much like Jon, only a bit taller, with thick auburn curls and a pair of pretty blue eyes. They were staring holes into her.

Margaery broke the tension by coming forward and giving her a hug, which Dany gladly returned. “You feeling better, doll? You sure didn’t rest long.”

“I’m okay. Thank you for taking care of me. You’ll have to send me your bill,” Dany told her with a small smile, an attempt to lighten the mood.

She laughed and waved her hands. “Nonsense! You can just buy me lunch later.”

“Sure thing.”

“Hey Dany, you okay?” Gendry asked, his voice a little shaky.

“I am, thank you for asking. I’m really sorry about earlier. The stress finally hit me, I guess.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Can't say I blame ya,” he told her, sounding a bit more like himself. He waved toward Robb and Sam. “This is one of Jon’s cousins I mentioned earlier, Robb Stark. And another friend of ours, Sam Tarly.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both,” she greeted them.

Sam walked over and shook her hand as if it were a pump handle. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.”

She gave him a stiff smile before she stepped back and turned her attention to Robb. He only nodded his head, his expression stony.

_Here we go._

Swallowing down her nerves, she presented her case. “Mr. Stark, I heard most of your conversation before I came in here.”

“Dany, I’m sorry—” Gendry tried to jump in.

She held up a hand. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “He has every right to question me. I wouldn’t consider him a very good friend or family member to Jon if he didn’t.” She kept her eyes trained on Robb’s. Maybe it would help him see the truth. “I understand you being hesitant, but I promise you, I’m not here to cause Jon trouble. I had never met, nor heard of him before he walked in behind me at Starbucks tonight. I know nothing about him except for what he told me in those few minutes before the gunmen came in. He teaches furniture design at a place called SCAD, and seems to really love his job. That, and I know the type of man he is when lives are threatened...”

She fell silent, eyes closing, a tremor running through her, the flashes of memories from their horrible night stealing her breath and words. _What he'd done for her…_

“A selfless one,” she finally whispered, wiping at a traitorous tear.

The others had went quiet as well, none of them looking her way, staring at feet and floors instead, faces somber.

She was shaking, her skin feeling as if she'd been bathed in Icy Hot, muscles quivering against the chill that had taken her. She crossed her arms and hugged herself as she focused on Robb, needing him to listen, to know she wasn't a threat. Whether he felt her gaze or his curiosity couldn't be contained, his eyes found hers again.

“I’ve only been in town a few days,” she told him, before he could interrupt. “I’m in Savannah to decide if I want to keep my late husband’s family vacation house. And because I needed time away from the memories at home.”

He never broke eye contact with her, but the others all shifted uncomfortably on their feet when they heard the words ‘late husband’s’.

She went on, wanting it over with. “Today was the first time I’ve left that house since I got here. I don’t do well in public much anymore since the accident,” she managed, keeping her voice somewhat even despite her trembling jaw and chattering teeth. _Dammit, why was it always so cold in hospitals?_

Robb finally pulled his gaze from hers, and hung his head, running his fingers through his hair. When he looked back up, his icy stare was a bit more forgiving. He gave her a nod. “Alright, say I believe all that, it still doesn't tell me why you're sticking around. He made it through surgery, he's alive. His friends and family are here now, why are you?”

Dany wasn't sure how she was still standing there, why she hadn't turned tail and ran. Her pounding heart and rushing blood certainly wanted her to. She didn't have an answer to his question. Not one she felt sure was reasonable or rational anyway. She had no business being there. She was a complete stranger to these people, had nearly gotten their loved one killed.

_What the hell was she doing?_

_Staying._

_Oh, for fuck sake!_

Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply through her nose, and for whatever reason–she didn't have the strength to dissect it right then–she listened to that still small voice one more time.

She met Robb's questioning glare again. “I’m only here for one reason, and that’s Jon,” she answered him. “He saved my life tonight, in more ways than you’ll ever know, without any thought to his own. I want–” she shook her head, “No, I need to thank him.”

Dany sucked in a breath as what she actually meant only then hit her. She was losing her mind, she had to be, but it felt _right._ And nothing had felt right in so long.

She took a small step closer to Robb. “I don't just mean I want to tell him thank you. I need to try to do for him what he did for me. Gendry said he didn’t have any family other than you and your sisters. They're far away and the rest of you,” she waved her hand at him and his friends, “have jobs, I’m sure. I don’t. There’s no job tying me down, no family to miss me if I’m not there. All I have is time.” Pulling her lips between her teeth she dropped her eyes to her shaking fingers worrying each other. She crossed her arms again, tucking her hands out of sight. “If Jon needs it, I’ll gladly spare it,” she offered, barely above a whisper.

Robb put his hands on his hips, leaned forward, his brows twisted showing his clear confused. “Are you telling me you want to stay here and help him recover? A complete stranger?”

Her gaze darted to Gendry, needing support to stall her anxious nerves before they sparked into panic. He smiled softly and gave her an encouraging nod. Grateful and a little bolstered, she turned back to Robb and shrugged helplessly. The idea was crazy and she knew it, but she couldn't seem to set it aside. It was an insistent prodding, like a small child begging to be heard, tugging at her heart instead of her shirttail. She knew it wouldn't stop until she listened to it.

A disbelieving scoff left Robb. He scrubbed his hands over his face before dropping them to his sides and just looked at her, waiting. She didn't know him, but she hadn't seen another person look so weary in a long time. He reminded her very much of the face that stared back at her every morning in the mirror.

She swallowed. “I guess that _is_ what I’m saying. The least I can do for him is sit in this hospital and keep him company while he does,” she suggested. “If he wakes up and doesn’t want me here, I’ll go and you’ll never see me again. But if he’s alright with me staying, then I'd like to. I owe him my life. I’ve lost way too many people already. It just feels wrong to walk away from one that thought I was worth saving,” she finished with a lot more passion than she’d intended.

What on Earth had gotten into her, she didn't know, but there it was.

Jon's cousin was looking at her with obvious shock written on his face, but she felt no need to ease it for him. She did, however, give into the urge to flee. Throwing Gendry and Margaery apologetic smiles, she left the room.


	4. I'm better near to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany wrestles with her feelings while trying to get to know Jon's family a bit more. Margaery helps her out and she and Robb come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this one guys. My daughter's wedding threw me off, then I threw myself into finishing my canon fic before the show started. I got that promised fulfilled so now I'm back and with not one, but two updates for you. Hopefully that makes up for the wait :)
> 
> Want to give a big thank you to two lovely ladies for helping me out with this chapter. Jalenmara was her ever patient and wonderful self and helped me whip it into shape, then Frost gave it another once over. I love you both and your love for this fic to the moon and back!!!

 

 

Such pain as this shouldn't have to be experienced  
I'm still reeling from the loss,  
still a little bit delirious  
Near to you, I am healing but it is taking so long

'Cause though he's gone and you are wonderful, it's hard to move on

Yeah, I'm better near to you  
With you and I, it's something different  
I'm enjoying it cautiously  
I'm battle scarred; I am workin' oh-so hard to get  
Back to who I used to be

He's disappearing, fading steadily  
When I'm so close to being yours  
Won't you stay with me, please?  
'Cause near to you,  
I am healing but it is taking so long  
'Cause though he's gone and you are wonderful,  
it's hard to move on

Yet I'm better near to you  
Yeah, I'm better near to you  
I only know that I am better where you are  
I only know that I am better where you are  
I only know that I belong where you are

Near to you, I am healing but it is taking so long  
Though he's gone and you are wonderful,  
it's hard to move on  
Near to you, I am healing but it is taking so long  
'Cause though he's gone and you are wonderful,  
it's hard to move on  
Yeah, I'm better near to you  
Yeah, I'm better near to you

Near to You - A Fine Frenzy

 

She'd barely made it five steps out of the room before Margaery caught up to her.

“Are you alright, hon?” she asked, a hand hovering over Dany's arm.

She winced at Margaery’s obvious concern and slowed her retreat, steps faltering a bit before she moved on. Her arms refused to release their tense hold on herself, whether it was the chill in the air or her nerves she didn't know. She threw a weak smile in Margaery's direction. “I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Dany stopped, because of course she wasn't, but Margaery would need to be convinced otherwise. Question was, _how?_ Her mind spun, she shuffled around, eyes scanning the empty hallway as if the answer might jump out from the stark white walls and save her, but all she could settle on was getting away. She needed somewhere to go, time to think, to sort through her riot of emotions and hopefully get them locked up with all the rest.

Choice made, her eyes caught Margaery’s for a fleeting moment before dropping to the tiled floor. “Yeah... I think maybe I should just go.”

“But you told them you wanted to stay,” Margaery said, confusion laced around her words.

Dany had the sudden urge to scream, but rubbed her face instead, in hopes of quelling it. She added in a few deep breaths for good measure. “I know, but his cousin is probably right,” she sighed, “I… I don't know what I was thinking.”

There was no lie hidden in those words, she truly didn't.

Margaery pulled a face, but quickly schooled it. “He could be right, but he _could_ be wrong too. He's more than a little upset. He wasn't even able to stay with Jon. Seeing him that way was too much for him. He needs time and... I think you do, too.” Margaery reached out again, this time gently gripping her arm. “I can't let you leave without knowing you'll be safe.”

“I'm fine. _I'll be fine_ ,” she insisted, teeth clenched, before she could catch herself. She blew out a strained breath and gave Margaery a withering look. “I can leave for awhile and come back,” she tried.

“Dany, you told me you didn't have your purse or vehicle. How are you gonna leave?”

 _Shit_ , she had her there. She shrugged a shoulder. “I can walk…”

Margaery gave an adamant shake of her head. “ _No_. Not at _this_ hour, in _this_ town. One traumatic experience a day is quite enough,” she said with a sarcastic huff.

 _Enough. She'd definitely had enough._ “You can't keep me here against my will,” Dany told her, eyes narrowed, arms tightening around her. “I might be a wreck, but I still have a brain and I _know_ how this works.”

Margaery stepped back, slowly slipping her hands into her jacket pockets while staring at her. Finally, she nodded with a knowing twist to her mouth. “You're right, I can't keep you here. You're free to leave anytime. But Dany…” she paused, and Dany knew by the way she'd said her name that she was about to lose what little ground she'd gained. “You know that staying here, at least until the morning, is the most reasonable thing to do.”

Dany didn't bother hiding her irritation, cutting Margaery a petulant look, before sighing in defeat.

Margaery tried hard to smother her triumphant smirk as she put an arm around her shoulder. “Let's go see Jon again, alright? Then you can try to rest some more. I promise we'll figure out a way to get you home in the morning if you still want to go. I can take you once my shift is over if nothing else. How about that?”

It was probably her best option, her only one really. She gave a wobbly nod. “Yeah, alright.”

 

*~*

 

Jon had a tad bit more color in his cheeks when she and Margaery made it to his room, much to her relief. “He didn’t show any signs of waking up while I was asleep, did he?” she asked, taking in his still form again. His bruising was worse.

“Not yet, but that’s normal,” Margaery answered. “His body’s been through a lot. It needs a break. He’s not going to be a happy camper when he does wake up though. We’ll have to stay on top of his pain,” she told her as she checked a monitor.

The smothering guilt was back in an instant, settling heavier into her bones. She couldn't repair the damage done to Jon, but maybe she could start again with Margaery. She called her name softly and when she looked up, Dany gave what she hoped was a sincere look of apology. “I’m sorry about being difficult out there, and… for lying to you.”

Margaery gave a soft smile. “It's alright, Dany. I understand.”

She barely heard her, her sudden need to confess overwhelming everything else. “Things were so insane by the time the paramedics got there. They assumed I was his wife,” she rattled off. She held her hand up and wiggled her ring finger. “I guess they saw it and I couldn’t stand the thought of them taking him away, of never knowing if he made it or not. So... I went with it.” She groaned and rubbed at her face, a wave of self loathing washing through her, turning her stomach. “It was stupid, _so stupid_.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Margaery countered, understanding shining in her eyes. “I get it, hon, even better now that I know a few more things.” Her smile returned. “I’m sure you didn’t have the time to think of anything better, and, hell, I’d probably pretend to be this gorgeous man’s anything, if I had the chance,” she laughed, throwing her a wink.

Dany couldn’t help the small bubble of laughter that broke free, but she quickly sobered. “You should’ve seen him before those assholes did this to him. He took my breath away the first time I saw him,” she whispered, her fingers brushing back one of his limp curls.

She fell quiet, just staring at him. Remembering his eyes. So dark and serious, but soft, the kind you can fall into. How they sparkled when he smiled. She'd wanted to run away from him earlier, and now here she was, playing with his hair while he slept. She didn’t know what in the hell had come over her.

_What would Drogo think?_

She pulled away from Jon as if he’d burned her.

“I feel so guilty,” she confessed. “Like I’m cheating on my husband by worrying over a man who isn’t mine to worry over, and for staying when I might not be welcome.”

“Is it okay to ask about him? Your husband?” Margaery asked and Dany shrugged, giving a nod. “How long has it been?”

“Almost two years. It was a car wreck,” she told her, swallowing down the lump in her throat that inevitably always rose up at the mention of it.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you. Still must be. I’m so sorry, Dany.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and gave her one of her automatic _‘I’m being polite’_ smiles. There’s no way Margaery didn’t see through it. It couldn’t be helped though, there just wasn’t a good way to respond to condolences. Not a truthful one, anyway.

“Honey, this may sound cliché, and I promise I don’t mean it to, but I’m sure he would want you to be happy again. Whether that’s with Jon, someone else, or even on your own. No one can replace those we lose, but you have to let yourself live again,” Margaery said gently.

She swallowed at the incessant lump in her throat and drew in a deep breath. “You sound like my therapist. He told me I don’t know how many times, that I was walking around like I was dead, too, and one day I’d have to let myself live again. But I don't know if I remember how anymore,” she whispered.

“You do,” Margaery told her. “I’ve seen that spark in your eyes several times today. It’s just going to take adding the right fuel to the mix.”

_How could being here feel so wrong, but so right all at the same time?_

Dany shook her head, pulling her bottom lip through her teeth as she gripped Jon's bed rail to keep herself from touching him. “I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s selfish of me insisting on staying with him when he’s not able to make that choice? I can’t decide whether I’m here more for him or myself. I should want to stay for his sake alone, but I know I’m doing it for me, too. Everything about him confuses me to the point my head is spinning, and my stomach’s in knots. The thought of leaving him terrifies me, but I feel like I don’t really belong here either.”

She carefully picked up Jon's hand and held it in hers. “I need you to wake up. I don’t want you to have to be in pain, but I need to know if you want me here,” she whispered to him, looking down at their hands.

She’d never thought about hands being beautiful before, but his were. She turned his palm up and traced across the calluses, then wandered down to the soft pad of skin at the base of his thumb. Even with him sleeping she could feel, and see, how strong his hands were.

“Do you really think he’ll want me here when he wakes up?”

Margaery walked around the bed, coming over to her, taking her hands into hers and squeezing them. “Dany, what do you think was one of his first thoughts when he saw those gunmen?”

“Probably what I did, _‘Oh shit!’_ ” she tried to joke.

She smirked at her, and shook her head. “I’m sure, but I meant after that. Can you tell me what he did after he saw them?”

Dany's eyes dropped to her feet. She knew exactly what he did, could still feel him pressed against her back. “He pushed me against the counter, and used himself to hide me,” she told her, biting her lip. She knew where Margaery was going with all of this, but couldn’t bring herself to trust it just yet.

“I thought it’d be something like that. When the bullets started flying, what did he do?”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out, but couldn’t keep her lip from trembling as the memories ran through her mind. She tried to answer, but the just words wouldn't make it past her strangled throat.

Margaery rubbed her arms in comfort. “He protected you the entire time, didn't he? Risked his own life to make sure you kept yours?” Dany nodded, eyes still focused on the floor. “Do you really think when he wakes up he won’t want to know you’re safe? That he won’t need to see you with his own eyes to be sure you are? If I was a betting girl, I would say the first thing out of his mouth is going be your name. He’ll want you here, honey,” she said with a confidence that Dany wished she had herself. It did help her feel a little stronger though.

She stepped up and gave Margaery a tight hug. “Thank you, for everything. I’m going do my best to keep myself together from now on, so you don’t have to work so hard, okay?”

“I’m glad I can be any help at all, sweetie.” She squeezed her back until Dany's stomach decided to growl. “When’s the last time you ate anything, girl?” she asked smiling, but concerned.

“Ummm, this morning,” Dany confessed.

“Well, you’re not going to be able to help Jon if you don’t take care of yourself first. Tell him goodbye for now, while I bring Robb back to see him. Then you’re going go get some food for your skinny self,” she insisted.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dany agreed with a smile. Margaery patted her arm and walked out.

“She’s one great lady. I can’t wait for you to meet her,” she murmured, turning back to Jon. Before she knew it his hand was back in hers, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “You probably can't even hear me, but… I'll be back, you just keep resting and I'll see you soon.”

When she looked up Robb was in the doorway, his icy, brooding stare back in place.

“Sorry, I'll go.”

He didn't acknowledge her, eyes focused on Jon as he slowly walked to his side. Dany willed her feet to move, but she was frozen, once again recognizing the grief on his face.

“You can stay,” he mumbled.

Her heart flipped and trembled behind her ribs. She didn’t know if he meant for now or for longer than that, but she stayed rooted to the spot all the same.

“God, he can be so stupid,” he hissed suddenly. His grip on the bed rail was punishing, knuckles white, face twisted in pain. He shook his head, dropping it as he let out a deep sigh. “Why would he do this to himself? For anybody?”

Dany didn't think he was truly asking, or needed an answer. She knew the fruitless repetitive cycle of _why's and what if's_ all too well. She found herself answering him anyway. “Because he’s a good man,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry he's here. I would’ve never asked him to do this for me. Never. I know I’m not worth the pain he’s already suffered, let alone gonna be in, but I tried to stop him. I begged and screamed for him to get down. I even tried to push him off me so maybe some of the bullets would hit me instead, but he wouldn’t budge. I _hate_ he’s here because of me, and I’d give anything to take his place.”

Robb’s head jerked up, cool blue eyes meeting hers. “No. That's the last thing he'd want,” he said, adamant. He shook head again and ran his fingers through his auburn curls before looking back at her. “Jon and I have been like brothers since we were babies. I know exactly how good of a guy he is. How big of a heart he has. I’ve been telling him for years it was going to get him in trouble, and today it finally did.” He rubbed his hands down his face, and took a few deep breaths. “When I got Gendry’s message earlier, I’d never been more scared in my life,” he whispered.

His eyes squeezed shut and he turned away from her. She dropped her gaze to the floor when his shoulders began to shake and her feet finally decided to work again. She’d almost made it to the door, intent to leave him to grieve in peace, but he spun around, eyes red and teary, fists clenched near his face.

“I’m furious some assholes almost killed the man I consider my brother!” he hissed, his voice barely raised, but his anger evident.

She knew it wasn't aimed toward her, he was just resentful at the unfairness of it all, so she did nothing to stop him. _‘Better out than in’_ Tyrion always told her.

“I’m pissed as hell he’s hurt!” he went on, flinging a hand toward Jon. “That he didn’t think about himself, or what it would do to me and my family if he’d died!” As quickly as his storm had built, it spent itself. He heaved a great sigh as he turned and leaned back against the glass wall that made up the door of Jon's room, hands covering his face.

After a minute or two of uncomfortable silence, her nerves twisting tighter with each second that passed, some of the tension finally left him. His arms dropped to his side and rolled his head toward her, brows drawn up between his blue eyes. “I know you probably don’t believe it, but I am proud of him. I just wish he’d been a little smarter, and a lot more careful.”

She wiped at her watery eyes and nodded. “I do, too,” she whispered.

He gave her a sad smile and pushed off the wall. “I’m sorry I was such an ass earlier.” He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “That you had to hear all that shit I said about you. I was scared and angry. Still am, but I shouldn’t have said those things without at least talking to you first.”

“It’s okay, I get it. I’ll try not to be a bitch anymore if you won’t,” she teased him.

He let out a genuine laugh. “Deal.”

Having some peace between them had her wanting to make herself scarce. Best to go while he was smiling, she'd only ruin things if she stayed. “I’m going go see if I can find some food around here.” He looked at her somewhat confused, but gave her a nod. “It helps to talk to him, at least it does me. I think maybe he can hear us, I hope he can anyway. I’ll be back up as soon as I’m done eating.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded again. “Yeah, okay. I’m staying tonight, so I’ll either be here, or trying to find somewhere to sleep in the waiting room.”

“See ya,” she said and gave him a little wave which he returned as she walked out.

She spotted Gendry lurking near the end of the hallway, her purse in his hands.

_How in the hell did he get that?_

He smiled as she got close. “Um, I’ve got your purse,” he said, waving it around. He was cute in that nervous, awkward way.

“Thank you, but how in the world did you get it?” she asked, taking it from him. She dug for her phone, sure Missandei had tried to call. And sure enough, there was a missed call from her once she found it.

“The cops brought it in,” Gendry answered. “They wanted to speak to you again, but I told em you were resting. Your truck keys are in there, too. They left it parked at the station along with Jon’s. I thought me and Sam could go and get yours picked up, and leave it here for you. If that’s alright? We can get Jon’s later.”

Once again she wondered what sort of alternate world she'd walked into. She'd known some good people, but this group went above and beyond. “That’s so nice of you, Gendry. Thank you. I had no idea how I was going get it back.”

He gave a big grin, his pretty blue eyes squinting. “No problem at all. Margaery told me you were hungry. I can walk you down to the cafeteria if you want. Sam’s already headed down there.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I should try to eat.”

“Well c’mon then, let’s go see what kind of horrible food they’ve got.”

 

*~*

 

Ten minutes later they were sitting down with Sam, picking at their pitiful excuses for food. It was so late that the actual cafeteria was closed. They’d been forced to choose from the vending machines. She'd gotten a cup of really mushy mac-n-cheese, Gendry had some kind of floppy sandwich, and Sam was about halfway through his fruit-floating-in-Jell-O concoction. It was all gross, but at least it was edible.

“So, did you get Robb to finally come around up there?” Gendry asked her, grabbing his Coke and taking several big gulps of it.

“I’ve never met a more stubborn man in my life,” Sam laughed across from her before she had a chance to answer. “Other than Jon, that is.”

She smiled. “Robb is... _opinionated_ ,” she agreed, “but under it all he’s worried about Jon. Like all of us are. I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page, now. We both want the same thing: for Jon to get better. We might butt heads before it’s over, but we’re good for now... I think,” she assured them.

“Good,” Gendry said. “I know the guy means well, but he can be really protective sometimes.” He took another bite of his sandwich. “Arya should be on her way by now. She called me while you were sleeping. I’ll pick her up tomorrow night. She’s gonna be hell on wheels when she finally makes it. The only way she could get here was to take four different flights with a couple of layovers. I’ve never heard such cussing in my life. My ears are still burning,” he laughed.

Dany poked at her mac-n-cheese with her fork. “What’s she like? Anything like Robb or Jon?” she asked, genuinely curious. She also wondered if maybe Arya and Gendry were an item. His eyes grew brighter when he talked about her, his smile too. She wouldn't be that nosy though.

Gendry nodded and took another swallow of Coke. “She’s probably too much like them. Not girly at all. They're all fiercely protective of each other, loyal to a fault, and have insane work ethics.”

“If you think Robb was hard to deal with, wait until you meet Arya,” Sam said, laughing again. He was such a happy guy she couldn't help but smile back, even if his words made her nervous.

She looked at Gendry, her weather vane in this veritable shit storm. He gave a quiet chuckle and patted her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry. I didn’t have time to tell her with all the ear burning she was giving me. I will when I get her picked up tomorrow. She might be prickly at first, but she'll come around.”

Dany wasn't so sure she believed him, but she'd find out soon enough she supposed.

After washing down her mac-and-cheese with some canned sweet tea– _yuck_ –she threw her trash away. With her stomach relatively full, exhaustion had begun to creep up on her, but she wanted to see Jon one more time before she tried to sleep again. Gendry and Sam were on their feet and ready to go when she turned around.

“We’re gonna go get your truck,” Gendry said. “Sam’ll bring it back here, then go on home. I have to get to the house, get some work done before I crash. I’ll check on Jon first thing in the morning before I go pick up Arya. Do you mind swapping numbers with me so we can keep each other updated about things?”

“Oh, sure, that’s a good idea. I don’t know how long my battery is gonna last, but there should be a charger in my truck I can get later,” she told him, handing her phone over.

She had to stifle a couple of yawns while he worked on adding numbers. Sam asked for her keys, and told her goodnight before heading outside to wait for Gendry.

“I added everyone’s, so you should be all set,” he told her, handing her phone back. “If he wakes up during the night please send me a text at least. I’ll check in with you in the morning either way. I hope you can get some rest,” he said, waving as he walked out.

“You, too. Goodnight.”

Dany started the trip upstairs, hoping she remembered the way. She really hated hospitals, but supposed she better get used to this one. She was planning on being here for a while.

She stopped by to the waiting room first. Robb was trying his best to make a bed out of a tiny loveseat when she walked in. The poor thing looked ridiculous.

“Gonna be a long night, isn’t it?” she asked.

He jumped a little at her abrupt greeting, a blush on his cheeks as he grumbled about hating hospitals. He sat back up, elbows braced on his thighs. “Probably gonna be a long few months, actually.” He sighed and rubbed his face. He already looked exhausted.

“Probably so. Want me to ask Margaery if she can find you a cot?”

“Nah, thanks though. She brought me these pillows and a blanket. I’ll more than likely sleep on the floor.”

“All right then. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Margaery was standing by Jon's bed when she walked by his room. She stopped, unable to help herself, hope flicking within her like a tiny candle flame. Margaery spotted her and shook her head with a sad smile. Hope doused, Dany nodded and made her way to the lounge. After using the bathroom, she collapsed onto the sofa and sent a quick text to Missandei letting her know she was alright, and that she'd call her in a few days.

The next thing she knew, Margaery was shaking her.

“He’s awake, honey.”


	5. Please see me reaching out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon wakes up and learns he's in for a rough go of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day! Since I made you wait so long I couldn't leaving you waiting another week for Jonno. Enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to Frosty for the beta job! Love you!!!

 

 

Please don't see just a boy  
caught up in dreams and fantasies  
Please see me reaching out for someone I couldn't see  
Take his hand let's see where we wake up tomorrow  
Best laid plans sometimes are just a one night stand  
I'd be damned Cupid's demanding back his arrow  
So let's get drunk on our tears and

God, tell us the reason youth is wasted on the young  
It's hunting season and the lambs are on the run  
Searching for meaning  
But are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark?

Who are we? Just a speck of dust within the galaxy?  
Woe is me, if we're not careful turns into reality  
Don't you dare let our best memories bring you sorrow  
Yesterday I saw a lion kiss a deer  
Turn the page maybe we'll find a brand new ending  
Where we're dancing in our tears and 

God, tell us the reason youth is wasted on the young  
It's hunting season and the lambs are on the run  
Searching for meaning  
But are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark?  
I thought I saw you out there crying  
I thought I heard you call his name  
I thought I heard you out there crying  
Just the same 

God, give us the reason youth is wasted on the young  
It's hunting season and this lamb is on the run  
Searching for meaning  
But are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark? 

I thought I saw you out there crying  
I thought I heard you call his name  
I thought I heard you out there crying

But are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark?  
But are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark?

Lost Stars - Adam Levine

 

There was nothing but black. And the silence was so heavy it was unnerving. He'd been here awhile now. At least, he thought he had. He was ready to go somewhere else. He couldn’t even remember why or how it was he was here. He tried to move, but it felt as if his body was buried in a thick, sucking mud.

_Think, Jon. You had to have gotten here somehow. Wait! Something was beeping. It was faint, but it sounded like one of Robb’s trucks backing up. Was he at one of his job sites? No. No, that wasn't it. The beeping sounded more like a heartbeat, and it was getting faster. He could hear other noises, too. Some kind of machine humming close to his ear._

“Margaery, you might want to come in here. I think he’s waking up,” someone said nearby. It was a woman, but her voice was so muffled he didn’t know who she was.

_Was she talking about him? Why the hell couldn’t he see her, or wake up from whatever this was? He thought the blackness might be fading, like someone was slowly turning up the lights._

“Mr. Snow, can you hear me?” the woman asked, her voice clearer than before.

_Yes, he could hear just fine. He just couldn’t see!_

His eyes closed tighter, the light too bright, but he still couldn’t see a thing.

“His heart rate and breathing have both increased. His pressure is still stable,” the woman said.

Someone was touching him. He didn’t like not knowing who it was, but it seemed to finally help him break through the fog.

“Jon, can you open your eyes for me?” a new voice asked. This one was a woman, too.

He tried to open them again, but they refused. He couldn’t move his arm away from her either.

_What the hell was going on? Why wouldn’t his body work?_

“Turn the lights down, Gilly. See if that helps him with his eyes.”

The brightness faded a bit. He tried again. It felt as if his eyelids were Band-Aids, and he had to peel them off his eyeballs. It hurt like a bitch, but he finally got them open–only for them to slam shut on reflex.

“That’s it. Try again.”

He managed several small stinging blinks, and was finally able to keep them open if he squinted. There were two women staring at him, both brunette, one a bit older than the other.

“There you are. Welcome back,” the older one said.

_Welcome back?_

He closed his eyes again, and attempted to make sense of what was going on.

“Jon, I’m Margaery and this is Gilly. We’re your nurses. You’re in the hospital, hon. Do you remember what happened?”

No, he didn’t, and it was pissing him off.

He needed to calm himself down so he could think. He knew he could remember if he could just stay calm.

_Think, Jon, think._

He took a few deep breaths–all of which hurt–but the pain cleared the way for the memories to start flashing through his mind.

_One night of school left._

_A gorgeous woman smiling at him._

_Guys in masks! Guns!_

_Her ocean blue eyes._

_Gunshots! Protect her!_

_Oh God!_

_Dany!_

He bolted upright as the memories slammed into him, but fell right back roaring in pain.

“Jon! Don't move!”

“You have to calm down, and _be still!_ ”

He barely heard their yelling over his own.

 _Holy fuck!_ He had to be dying. Pain. So much pain. He couldn’t breathe. It hurt. Everything hurt.

“Jon, you need to breathe. I know it hurts, but you have to breathe and calm down. Try to be still and relax as much as you can.”

Was she nuts? How the hell was he supposed to relax when he felt as if he was being pulled through a shredder? _Oh God, make it stop. Please make it stop._

“Jon, can you look at me? Let me help you, okay?” one of them asked, her voice calm but stern. It was the older one again.

He was sure his eyes looked wild to her. He'd never been in so much agony in his life. His whole body felt as if it was being crushed. He tried to breathe through it, but could only manage erratic bursts of panting.

“That’s it, breathe for me. I know it hurts, hon. I’m so sorry. We’re gonna take care of you, and make it stop, okay? Just breathe, and stay really still for me. Good job,” she soothed.

The younger woman ran out of the room as Jon forced himself to focus on the one in front of him. She breathed with him for a few minutes, and the pain slowly began to ease. “There was a robbery at the Starbucks last night. Do you remember?” she asked. He nodded his head a tiny bit, terrified to move too much. “You were shot four times, and were brought here to have surgery to fix you up.”

_They shot him four times? Those motherfuckers! Oh God, what about Dany? Please God, let her okay._

He attempted to swallow the knot in his throat, but it was so dry it was useless. “Dany?” he whispered. His voice sounded like a rusty gear trying to turn.

The nurse–Margaery, he thought she’d said her name was–gave him big smile and rubbed his arm. “Dany’s here, and she’s fine. You saved her, don't you worry.” Jon closed his burning eyes, and let out a deep, shaky breath, relief running through him. “She’s gonna be so happy to see you awake. She’s been here the whole time waiting to see you. Would you like me to go get her?”

He opened his eyes. “Please,” he whispered again. He needed to see her for himself. Maybe that would help distract him from the pain.

“Alright, I sure will. Gilly went to get you some more pain meds. She’ll give them to you while I’m gone. You stay still, and keep breathing. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded his head slowly and closed his eyes again, kept breathing through the pain.

_Gilly needed to hurry with those meds or he’d pass out before he got to see Dany._

A few moments later someone was back in the room, the rubber soles of their shoes squeaking over the floor. “I’m giving you some morphine, Jon,” Gilly said. “It’s gonna kick in pretty quick, and you’ll probably want to sleep some more.”

He watched as she squeezed the syringe into the IV tube that was taped to his right hand. A cool flush ran up his arm. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He dared a glance down his body to see what kind of damage those assholes had done to him. The first sight to greet him was some kind of tube sticking out of his left side. Stitches were holding it in. If he was to guess by the looks of it, it was draining blood and fluid out of his abdomen.

_Awesome. Everyone wants a tube draining nasty shit out of them._

There was a large bandage covering him from right above the tube all the way up to his shoulder. He felt more bandages on his left shoulder blade and on the right side of his head, too. There was a sheet over him from his stomach down, but his right leg was hanging up in some wire contraption that was coming down from the ceiling.

_Holy shit. This was not good._

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the mess he was in anymore.

He'd really fucked up his plan on getting them out of there unhurt–at least himself, anyway. The nurse better be right about Dany being okay. He'd be pissed as hell if he got all shot up and didn’t manage to keep her safe in the process.

Now that he'd calmed down some, he could feel where all the pain was coming from. It wasn't his whole body, just most of it. The right side of his head was throbbing and burning like a bitch. His back, chest, and shoulder on the left felt as if they had knives embedded in them–big damn knives, and someone was twisting them. His leg was the worst. He couldn’t see why it was hurting so bad, but with the amount of pain it was giving him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

He concentrated on his breathing and staying calm. Freaking out hadn’t done him any favors. Thankfully, he could already feel the morphine beginning to do its job.

“Jon?”

He struggled to open his eyes again, and when he did, Dany was smiling down at him, tears running down her cheeks. Even tired and crying she looked beautiful.

“Hey, you,” she said with a strangled whisper as she slipped her hand beneath his. She had a small scratch on her head and it was bruised a bit, but other than that she looked fine.

“You’re okay,” he whispered and moved his fingers against hers.

Her other hand went to her mouth, a smothered sob sneaking past, but she nodded her head. “I am. Thanks to you,” she managed to get out after a second or two. She leaned over him and his eyes closed again as her soft lips kissed his forehead, a few of her warm tears hitting his skin. “Thank you, Jon,” she whispered, looking back down at him.

He gave her a small smile, unable to do more, feeling himself fading into the darkness again. He gathered his strength to get a few more words out. “Stay. I want… to see you... again. Please?” he asked, right before his eyes slipped closed. He knew they wouldn't open again for a while.

Her hand gently squeezed his, and soft fingers rubbed over his cheek. “I’ll be right here when you wake up. You rest, okay?”

He hummed his agreement, and let the morphine pull him under.

 

*~*

 

He didn’t know how long, but he kept fading in and out. It seemed like days, but it was probably only hours. Every time he'd get his eyes to open, Dany was always there. For some reason, he felt like he could relax knowing she was with him. He'd squeeze her hand, or smile back when she smiled at him and would quickly fall asleep again. But he was tired of sleeping. When he heard her talking to someone, he forced himself to wake up hoping to stay that way for a while.

Peeling his eyes open, he saw her and Robb on either side of him.

“Hey dumbass,” Robb greeted him with a smirk.

“Fuck you, dickhead,” he returned, voice like sandpaper.

 _God_ , he was so damn thirsty.

As if she read his mind, Dany had a cup of ice chips in front of him, ready to spoon one into his mouth. He slowly but eagerly accepted it, moaning when it hit his desert-like tongue. As he looked up at her, he noticed her giving Robb the evil eye, but it quickly disappeared when she looked back at him. Robb had an even bigger smirk on his face now.

“That better?” she asked, smiling sweetly, ignoring his cousin.

“Yes, thank you.” He sounded a little bit more like himself now.

“How’s your pain? We can get Gilly in here if you need some more morphine,” she said, her eyes filled with concern.

“It’s not great, but I want to stay awake for a while.”

“Alright, but don't let it get too bad, okay? We don't want a repeat of earlier,” she warned.

“Oh, hell no. Never again if I can help it,” he said closing his eyes and slowly shaking his head.

His eyes snapped open at the sound of her gasp. “I’m so sorry, Jon. It’s all my fault you’re in so much pain,” she whispered, her big, beautiful eyes filled with tears.

He wasn't having it. He squeezed her hand till she looked at him. “Please don't. None of this is your fault, do you hear me?” he assured her as fast as his mushy brain and body would let him–which wasn’t very fast at all. “Everything I did in there was my choice. I don't blame you, Dany. Not for any of this. Not even a little.” He squeezed her hand again, trying to stress his words. His voice still wasn’t as strong as he would’ve liked it to be and he was panting by the end, but hopefully he got his point across.

She held his hand tight while wiping her eyes with the other. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough,” she whispered.

“I’d do it again, except maybe do a better job of dodging the bullets.” He smirked up at her, in hopes of getting her to smile. It didn’t work. She just shook her head and wiped at more tears. “I promise I’m not in any hurry to be fighting anymore gunmen.”

“You better not be,” she mumbled and turned to get a tissue from the tray in the corner of the room.

He looked over at Robb. His smirk was still firmly in place. “What are you smiling at, asshole?”

“Me? I ain’t smiling at nothing, except your sorry ass laid up in this bed.”

“Yeah, well, if I could turn over I’d let you kiss it all better,” he said, giving it right back.

Robb's smirk suddenly vanished, as if someone had pulled the plug on it, leaving his face slack and stricken, his eyes dull. Jon hated it.

“You scared the shit out of us, Jon,” he croaked, voice cracking. “Do me a favor, let me know the next time you decide to go all badass and be someone’s shooting target, okay? Maybe I’ll be better prepared.”

He deserved the scolding, he supposed. He hadn’t thought past saving himself, and Dany. The after hadn’t entered his mind, nor had his family, but seeing Dany alive and well by his bedside kept his guilt somewhat contained. He'd done the right thing and he didn't regret it.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t what I had planned for the night, I promise.”

“I bet it wasn’t, but you almost cost one little girl her Jon-Jon. She’s gonna give you what for when she gets a look at you.”

Jon closed his eyes, swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat. “You can't bring her up here, Robb. Not ‘til I’m better. I’ll scare her to death.”

“I won’t. She’s with the shit-laws this week anyway, so you’re safe for a while.”

“Good,” he sighed. “Thanks for being here, by the way.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, bro.” He gently bumped his fist into Jon's knuckles.

Jon couldn't take seeing the emotion on his cousin’s face anymore. He looked away, and changed the subject. “What day is it? Or is it night?” There wasn’t a window in sight, so he couldn't tell.

“It’s Saturday evening, about nine thirty,” Dany told him. “You woke up around four this afternoon. You’ve been in and out ever since.”

“How long was I out for? Did they have to operate on me a long time?” He wanted to know, even though he worried what the answer would be.

“They worked on you for almost four hours. You’ve been up here in the ICU since about midnight yesterday,” she answered, voice tight.

“But they fixed everything, didn't they? I have to get out of here soon. I've got a class to teach.”

She and Robb shared a look, distressed.

Finally Robb cleared his throat. “They fixed everything they could, but uh,” he stood up straight and shoved his hands in his pockets, “you still need surgery on your leg. The orthopedic surgeon won’t be here ‘til Monday. After that, you can hopefully start moving around some,” he said as lightly as he could, trying to soften the blow, Jon guessed.

It didn’t work.

“Monday? _Some?_ What the hell, Robb? Give it to me straight,” he demanded, growing more agitated, his pain ratcheting up again.

Dany ran her fingers through his hair. “Jon, please try to stay calm. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we’re all gonna help you through this, okay? It might take longer than any of us wants it to, but you will get through it. I’ll stay with you every step of the way if you want,” she told him.

He studied her for a minute, knowing he needed to remember something about her that would keep her from staying. After a few seconds, it hit him. He glanced down at her left hand.

_Yep, still there. Damnit._

“As much as I’d like for you to stay with me, and I really would like it, I doubt your husband would.”

Pain flashed across her face and she pulled away from him just as a familiar voice filled the room. “You mean cupcake hasn’t told you she’s not really married, yet?” a voice drawled out with so much attitude you could paint the walls with it.

“Arya?” He strained to see where she was.

“Hey, big brother, or should it be big hero, now?” she snarked, walking around Robb to get to him.

 _God_ , it was good to see her.

“How did you know?” he asked and reached for her with his good hand and latching on tight to hers. “I’ve missed you so much, sis.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Missed you, too,” she whispered, pressing her cheek to his for several long seconds.

When she stood back up he could see how hard she was trying to hold back tears. Crying was against Arya’s religion, so he knew he'd really scared her. It was a struggle to fight back his own.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Yeah, well, when you get out of this bed I’m gonna to kick your ass.”

“I’ll make sure to stand still for you,” he joked, doing his best to make her feel better.

“Robb can help, Sansa too.” She was smirking, acting much more like herself.

He looked at Robb. “Did you call her?” His cousin shook his head.

“Gendry did right after he found out yesterday,” Arya told him. “It took my fucking ignorant assistant two fucking hours to track me down. Two! I fired her fucking ass on the spot. Then I had to take four fucking different flights to get here, which took fucking forever! Gendry kept me updated when he could. He picked me up at the airport, and filled me in on everything on the way over. You look like utter shit, I hope you know that.”

“I feel like it, too,” he groaned, rolling his head around in hopes of easing the ache in it.

Dany was slowly swaying on her feet over in the corner. She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself while she stared at the floor and chewed on her bottom lip. He didn't like seeing her that way at all, it didn’t feel right.

_Maybe she was being nice and giving him and Arya some space?_

“Dany?” Her huge eyes met his, full of sadness and fear. He felt the same need to hold her as he had when he met her. Arya could scare anyone though, so he assumed that’s what was bothering her. She’d see Arya wasn’t so bad once they met. “Come here, I want you to meet my other cousin.”

She hesitated a moment, before coming back over to the bed. She attempted to smile, but Jon could tell it was forced. He reached his hand toward her and she slipped hers into it, but it didn’t feel the same as before.

“Dany, this is Arya. She’s Robb's little sister, sorta mine too. Arya, this is Dany,” he introduced them. “She was there with me yesterday, Arya. She stood up to those assholes like you would have. She thinks I saved her life, but I think she could’ve done fine by herself. She was smart enough to not get shot like I did, anyway,” he said with a smirk, trying to keep things light between them.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Arya,” Dany said, her smile weak and nervous.

Arya nodded her head. “Hello.”

His little cousin was smiling at Dany as if she was one of her most hated clients, but she still had to keep her happy. Dany looked as if someone had kicked her dog.

_What was wrong with them? Couldn't they see he wanted them to get along?_

He looked over at Robb for some help, but he shook his head at him. Something was going on, and he was the only one that didn’t seem to know.

_Screw that._

“What the hell is going on? Quit babying me, and tell me what’s happening here. Why does it seem like you two know each other already?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jon. What makes you think that?” Arya asked with just enough attitude to make him question her.

“Bullshit!” he growled, jerking his head off the pillow, and immediately regretting it. The spike of pain that bolted through his skull was blinding.

Dany shook herself out of her funk, and rubbed his hand with both of hers. “Jon, please relax so you don't make your pain worse, okay? There’s nothing going on with us. Everything’s fine. I’m just really tired, and I’m sure Arya is, too, after flying all this way. Maybe we should call for Gilly to get you some more pain meds. We can all go so you can rest for a while.”

“I’m not going anywhere, cupcake. I just got here,” Arya smarted off to her, voice hard.

“Arya, don't be a bitch. She’s only trying to help,” Robb cut in. He was one of the few who had never been afraid of her.

Jon looked over at his cousin as she stared Dany down, her eyebrows raised to the ceiling. “Wait a minute... did you call her ‘cupcake’? I remember you said something about a cupcake when you walked in.” As his memory cleared, he turned to Dany. Her lip was between her teeth again, pain written on her face just as it had been when Arya came in. Only it changed to something else. _Guilt._

“You’re not married, are you?” A tear slipped down her cheek as she shook her head. Without a word she let him go, and hurried out of the room. “Dany, wait!” he called after her, straining his body way more than it wanted to be. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop her, or make her come back. “Damnit, Arya, what the hell did you do?” he half growled, half groaned, his pain making itself known again.

“Me? What makes you think I did anything to her? It’s not my fault she ran away.”

“She was fine... before you walked... in.” He closed his eyes and panted, trying to breathe through the pain.

“Jon? What’s wrong?” Arya asked, her voice trembling.

“It... hurts.” His leg felt like it was going to explode–or maybe it already had. The stabbing in his left side was getting much worse too, not to mention how bad his head was splitting.

_Damn, it hit fast._

“Arya, go get a nurse,” Robb ordered her. “ _Now_!” She must not have moved fast enough for him.

Jon tried to slow his breathing down. Robb peeled his fingers from their tight grip on the sheet and held his hand. “Squeeze as hard as you need to, bro. I can take it.” He didn't waste time taking him up on his offer. “Damn, Jon. Is it really that bad?” he asked with a groan of pain in his voice. Jon grit his teeth and nodded. “I’m sorry, man. Hang on, I can hear them coming this way,” Robb told him.

Feet came running into the room. He opened his eyes to Gilly come in, Arya hot on her heels. Thankfully, she stood back and kept her mouth shut while Gilly got to work.

“Keep breathing, Jon. It should start easing off in a minute,” she assured him. “I’m sorry we didn’t get this going before it got bad again. The last round should’ve lasted you longer than it did. I think maybe it’s a little early for you to be having so many visitors at once. You have to stay as calm and relaxed as possible, okay? You need to rest to get well, don't forget that.”

“Thank you,” he sighed and closed his eyes again as the heaviness began to spread throughout his body, the pain slowly washing away with it.

“I’m sorry guys, but I’m gonna have to ask y’all to step out for a while,” Gilly told them. “And I think for the next few days y’all are gonna need to keep it to one at a time. The last thing any of us wants is for him to hurt himself even worse.”

_Damn right we don't._

“You can tell him bye real quick before you leave.”

Robb still had a grip on his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you later, bro.”

Jon squeezed back. “Check on... Dany. Don't... let her leave.”

“I’ll make sure she’s okay, don't worry,” he said, and let him go.

Then a small hand was on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jon. I always fuck things up when it comes to you. Rest, and I’ll see you when you wake up. I love you,” Arya whispered. Jon could tell she was crying.

“I love you... too, but sis... you have to... fix it. I want her... to stick... around.”

“I will. I promise,” she told him just as sleep pulled him under again.


	6. I breathe, and I bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and Robb have a talk and she irons things out with Arya over waffles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay again. I won't bother with excuses. I've been wobbling on whether to post this for a couple weeks now for several reasons. It hasn't been betaed for one, but mostly because the jonerys fam has been in turmoil, and rightfully so. 
> 
> I decided to go ahead after many requests for more in my inbox and the comments. And maybe it will be a bit of a distraction on this dark day. It's not the happiest of chapters, and there's no Jon, poor fella is knocked out cold, but you'll learn more of Dany's past. 
> 
> Regardless, I love you all, and really hope you're taking care of yourselves. Staying away from social media has helped me tremendously, and rereading all my favorite au's has as well. So many fics out there to help heal our hearts. All I can say is bless the fanfic writers, their love for Jon and Dany will get us through. ❤️
> 
> Ash and Frost, we're going to Waffle House together one day. It's on my bucket list 😘😘

I've been looking in the mirror for so long,  
That I've come to believe my soul's on the other side.  
All the little pieces falling, shatter.  
Shards of me,  
Too sharp to put back together.  
Too small to matter,  
But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces.  
If I try to touch her,  
And I bleed,  
I bleed,  
And I breathe,  
I breathe no more.

Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirits well.  
Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child.  
Lie to me,  
Convince me that I've been sick forever.  
And all of this,  
Will make sense when I get better.  
but I know the difference,  
Between myself and my reflection.  
I just can't help but to wonder,  
Which of us do you love.  
So I bleed,  
I bleed,  
And I breathe,  
I breathe no  
Bleed,  
I bleed,  
And I breathe,  
I breathe,  
I breathe

Breathe No More - Evanescence

She went straight into bathroom in the nurses’ lounge and locked the door behind her. Her demons were rising up, trying to take control, but she wasn’t going to give them an inch. She just needed a few minutes. Just a few to get herself to calm down. She wasn't going let it happen. Not today.

 _“Breathe, Dany. Find something to count,”_ Tyrion’s voice filtered through her head.

Her body slid down the wall landing with a jarring thud. Fists clenched, lips held tight between her teeth, she looked up at the shower tiles and followed his advice.

_In– one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Out– eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen. In..._

Over and over she breathed, counted until she ran out of tiles. _Two hundred and ninety-six._ The fears had waned and the sadness had crawled back beneath its rock, but anger expanded to take their place.

“Dammit all to hell!” she seethed, pounding her fists against the cold floor, the shock of the blows running up her arms. “I didn’t want him to find out that way.” She dropped her head back against the wall none too gently, releasing a frustrated breath.

Meeting Arya went exactly as she was afraid it would– horribly. Gendry told her he would explain things to her, obviously she hadn’t liked his explanation.

“Shit, shit, shit!” She pounded at the floor again, angry at herself more than anything, needing a vent to force her fury through. She couldn't hide, couldn't let Arya think she was some weeping coward, even if she was. She may have to fake it, but all Arya would see from then on was steel and strength.

Dany picked herself up off the floor, and went to the sink, splashing cold water on her face again and again. It always helped, why she didn’t remember exactly. Something about slowing her heart rate maybe. Calmer, she dried off and took a few deep breaths for good measure before heading out the door to face Jon's cousin again.

Gilly was coming out of his room when she made it around the nurses’ station.

“How is he?” she asked, her worry spilling out. She didn't have an ounce of control over it when it came to him.

Gilly smiled sadly at her and Dany's heart squeezed painfully. “He’s okay, sleeping again,” Gilly told her, allowing her breath to come easier. “But whatever was going on in there had him really worked up. His pain kicked into overdrive. I’m going to put in an order for a morphine pump right now. Ticks me off they didn’t get him one to start with,” she grumbled as she went back to her computer.

“There were too many of us in there. I’m sorry. I should’ve left as soon as his cousin walked in,” Dany said, leaning over the counter as Gilly typed away.

“I think she was the problem, but I told her and Robb that only one of you is allowed back here at a time. We’re gonna keep the visits short, too. The next couple of weeks are gonna be really hard for Jon. He doesn’t need any more stress.” She looked up at Dany, her brows furrowed. “I know you already understand that. I’m not fussing at you, I swear.”

Dany shook her head. “No, you’re completely right. Jon should come first for all of us right now. I should've left sooner.”

Gilly reached up and patted her hand and went back to typing. “I sent them all to the waiting room, if you want to join ‘em.”

“I honestly don’t, but I probably better,” she muttered and sighed.

Chuckling, Gilly gave her an understanding look. “I’ll let you know if anything changes with him.”

“Thanks, Gilly.” She waved at her as she walked out. Dany liked her almost as much as Margaery. Thankfully, they’d be swapping shifts back and forth for the next week at least.

_Lord, please help me keep myself together, and my sass to a minimum. Amen._

Praying had helped the day before when she was heading down the same hall, maybe it would again. But it was a false hope, like yesterday, her name popped up in a very heated discussion. This time, however, she didn’t hover in the hallway eavesdropping. She walked right in and caused crickets to start chirping.

They all stared at her, each with different expressions on their faces. Gendry was embarrassed, the poor thing. Robb looked as if someone had pissed in his cornflakes, but that glare is aimed solely at his little sister. Dany got a guilty pout once he quit trying to kill Arya with his eyes.

Arya, well, she was... _Hurt? Angry? Scared? Sad?_ They all flashed across her features in quick succession. Dany could understand them all. She could also see that, like with Robb, she would have to earn her trust.

“Arya, I think maybe you and I should start from scratch. Would you like to go get something to eat with me?” she asked.

Arya's eyes widened a fraction at the invitation and wider still at Gendry and Robb’s immediate protests.

“Dany, I don’t think—”

“That’s not a good idea—”

Dany held her hand up and waited for them to hush. It didn’t take long. “We’re big girls who can take care of ourselves. You both know Arya and I need to talk, so please let us handle it.”

Gendry hung his head a bit, but nodded at her when he looked back up. Robb let out one of his loud sighs, hissing through his teeth. “Fine, but I really need to speak to you first, Dany. Alone, please?” he asked.

“Try not to keep her too long, Robb. I’m starving,” Arya told him. “Gendry, come with me.” Without waiting for a response from him, she started for the door. As she reached Dany, she stopped and stared hard for a moment, her face stony. Whether she was trying to size Dany up or scare her, she wasn't sure. Didn’t really care either.

She smiled back sweetly at her. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she told her, voice as sweet as sugar.

_Kill ‘em with kindness Uncle Aemon always said._

Arya's cute face twisted into an ugly grimace and she walked away. Gendry trailed after her, his expression full of apology.

“She’ll come around,” he whispered as he passed by.

Once they were gone, she sat down with a sigh, and rubbed at her face before looking over at Robb. He was across from her, leaning over, elbows on his knees, his brow all twisted up.

“I’m really sorry, Dany. Arya can be difficult on the best of days, and she’s angry and scared. Like I was. Probably more like terrified, actually. Her and Jon have always been really close. They can be extremely protective of each other because of it. It’s gonna take some time for her to warm up to you,” he said with some heavy regret.

She shook her head and waved a dismissive hand. “It’s alright. I knew things probably wouldn’t be easy with her. I’m gonna go talk to her, see if I can get her to listen to my side of things. She needs to hear it from me I think. Just like you did.”

“You’re probably right. Woman to woman may be best. Don’t let her push you around too bad though. And just so you know, her bark is worse than her bite, I promise,” he added with a smirk.

She smiled back. “I’m not so sure about that yet, but we’ll see.” She sat up straighter, clamping her hands between her knees to keep from fidgeting. Her stomach was beginning to churn again. “I uh, I think I’ll go home for a few days—”

“What? No! You can't leave!” he hollered and grabbed her knees in a tight grip.

She almost a heart attack. “What the hell, Robb?” she demanded, slapping at his hands.

He quickly let go, holding his own up in surrender and shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He leaned forward again, his blue eyes serious. “But you can't leave, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Jon begged me to make sure you stayed after you ran out,” he explained.

The floor simply fell out from under her, as if she were Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. Her hands had found the arms of her chair, the sharp edges digging into her fingers her grip was so tight. She let go, sticking them between her knees again. “He did?” she finally asked, hating how unsure, yet hopeful her voice had sounded.

Robb gave a slow nod. “He wanted me to check on you, and make sure you stayed. He told Arya she had to fix things with you, too. He wants you to stick around.”

She took a minute to let those words sink in, to figure out how they made her feel. _Scared, hopeful, confused–_ her permanent state where Jon was concerned.

Robb had sat back in his seat, giving her space, he stuck his foot out and bumped hers. “Don’t forget you told us, and him, you’d stay if he wanted you to.”

Her eyes darted to his and she felt pinned, like a butterfly under glass, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

_Why did she ever say that? Why? She couldn't stay here, she couldn't._

She was out of her chair and pacing the room before she registered her own movements. Her arms crossed tight over her chest, while she gnawed on her thumbnail.

“Dany?” Robb called, soft, but surprised.

She spun around and faced him, throwing her hands out. “Look, I know I said that. I know I did, but that was nuts, right? I just got all emotional, and worked up and said stuff I shouldn’t have. I’m a stranger, for heaven’s sake. You said it yourself, y’all don’t know anything about me. Yes, I owe him my life, but he’s still a stranger to me, too. The idea is crazy.”

He got up and walked over to her, but didn't crowd her, his expression gentle and kind. So unlike their first meeting. “Do you want to stay?” he asked.

Her eyes dropped to the floor, tears pricking hot and stinging behind them, her shirt clenched tight in her fists. “Yes. I don’t want to leave him. It would drive me insane not knowing if he was okay or not,” she admitted. She sniffed and wiped at her face before meeting his gaze. “But it may be less stressful for him if Arya isn’t so bent out of shape because I’m around. I only want to do what’s best for Jon.”

He chuffed, pulling a cynical smirk. “Arya is always bent out of shape, no matter what,” he told her. He shifted his weight and shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders coming up around his ears in a nervous shrug. “I might be wrong, but I been doing some thinking, and,” his look turned pleading, like some pitiful puppy, “maybe _you_ might be what’s best for him.”

There went the floor again, only this time she had nothing to cling to. She swayed before managing to lock her muscles down tight. “ _Me?_ ”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding. “We're his family, and sure we'll be here for him, but what you two went through yesterday… That isn't something any of us can even begin to understand. And Jon… well he… he’s been doing pretty good lately, but he's had rough patches.”

“What d’you mean?”

“He's always been… well, not the happiest of guys, kinda broody, gets down real easy. He's good at hiding it, but...”

That sounded nothing like the Jon she'd met with his ready smile and easy manner.

“I'm worried what this will do to him emotionally, not just physically,” Robb went on, his eyes focused somewhere behind her. He'd obviously missed her troubled frown. “What if he starts having some kind of PTSD from what y'all went through?” He looked down at her again and held a hand out, motioning toward her. “You might be able to help him better with that than any of us could.”

She flinched. It wasn't her favorite thing to have her problems thrown in her face.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” he groaned and ran his fingers through his thick hair, and down to rub the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean… I only meant because you went through it with him. Not because of your attack.”

She tried not to react again, to keep her face neutral. She failed.

“I’m gonna stop now. I’m sorry.” He turned around with a sigh and walked back across the room.

Her hands came to face, fingers rubbing at the aching tension in her jaw, over her eyes, her temples. She'd have one hell of a migraine soon if she didn't relax. A few deep breaths and a roll of her shoulders helped, a little.

“Robb, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything bad by it,” she assured him, wearily. He faced her again, but didn't speak so she continued on. “I honestly didn’t even think about Jon having anxiety or any sort of emotional issues about it, believe it or not. I always figure I’m the only person that gets freaked out and has attacks. So, I guess you actually do have a point. I may be able to help if that ever comes up for him,” she shook her head and pulled her bottom lip through her teeth, letting out rushed sigh, “but I hope to God for his sake it doesn’t.”

Robb stared at her, his eyes gentle. She appreciated it and hated it all at the same time. “So, you’ll stay? You won’t go home right now?” he asked, a slight worried tone still hanging on his words.

“I guess not,” she answered.

“You promise you’re not gonna run off, and leave him when he needs you?”

She scowled fiercely. “I wasn’t gonna leave for good. I was coming back. I was just wanted to give him and Arya some time without me hanging around. I’d never leave him if he didn’t want me to!” she said with enough anger to surprise even herself.

He smirked at her, his blue eyes twinkling. It only succeeded in making her angrier– until it didn’t.

“Kiss my ass, Robb Stark. I’ve got enough problems without you messing with me,” she fussed at him, grinning as her anger turned into laughter.

He laughed with her and waved toward the door. “Come on. I’ll take you downstairs. There's a Waffle House across the street. Not the healthiest food, but at least it'll taste better than that shit in those vending machines.”

Dany hummed, imagining a mouth full of warm syrupy goodness. “God, I haven't had a waffle in ages.”

“I like their hash browns,” Robb offered. “They're Jon's favorite too. Always orders them scattered and crispy, then covers em in ketchup,” he said, chuckling to himself as he walked out the door.

She didn’t know what to think about him sharing that tidbit. It was just a favorite food, but it felt far more intimate than that. As if he'd told her one of Jon's guarded secrets.

She wanted to know more of them, from Jon's own lips, but she pushed that longing away. That was dangerous territory she wasn't ready to tread.

“Shouldn’t we give Gilly our numbers in case she needs any of us? What if something happens while we’re gone?” she asked, her worry finding its way to the surface again.

“Already done. I gave her our numbers when I got here this morning.”

“Oh, okay then. I can't stall anymore, can I?” she muttered.

He smiled over at her as they stepped up to the elevator. He punched the down button. “I’m not worried a bit, you’ll handle Arya just fine.”

“Glad someone isn’t.”

They rode in silence until they got downstairs, but he stopped her as she went to get off. “I’ll go back upstairs, let y’all talk.”

She shook her head. “You know what? Would you mind coming with us? There’s some things you don’t know yet, and I really don’t want to have to do this over and over again.”

He hesitated for a split second, then nodded. “Yeah, sure. If that's what you want.”

“Thanks, but do me a favor... If Arya gets an attitude with me, let me handle it?”

He held up two fingers and waved them. “I promise. Scouts honor.”

 

*~*

There’s something about a Waffle House that's hard to wrap one's brain around. Every southern town has one, three if it's of any size. The yellow glow of roof and sign are beacons in the night, calling to you softly, no different than a siren. The fair deadly, but delicious.

Before you even enter you feel it, something strange but familiar surrounding you. The air changes, time slows, troubles are forgotten. It's as if you stepped through a thin veil into a space set away from everything else. A pause button for one's hectic life. For Dany it's just an added dimension to the already strange place she finds herself in, though this one is known and comforting.

The warm bite of coffee brewing filled her nose the moment Robb opened the door for her and a dozen other enticing smells followed it. Bacon, waffles, eggs and toast. Fried potatoes, burgers and pork. Grease, smoke, and so much more.

She walked carefully, her shoes slipping and sliding with each step, the grease covered tiles no better than ice.

Some country song she couldn't begin to recognize rose above the voices with its twanging tempo. The cook called out a greeting from the grill. Two of the waitresses seemed to be having an argument, but they stopped long enough to yell out their own hello before going at each other again.

As late as it was, they had their pick of seats. Though the usual customers were there. It was always the same people, no matter the time of day or town. A trucker or two at the counter, sipping coffee, their plates holding another dose of clogging cholesterol. The ragged drifter all alone at the end. A table full of teenagers dressed mostly in black, a chorus of laughter erupting as they all looked at one’s phone. There was the older couple in the corner, grey-haired, clothes a mix of polyester and seersucker, looking like everyone's grandparents. Another table of twenty-somethings, eyes bloodshot, their laughter mellow, the table packed full of empty plates, a distinct smell wafting up as you pass them.

Robb waved them all ahead of him and excused himself before going to the restroom after telling them he wanted sweet tea to drink.

Arya walked over to a booth in the back and sat down with a huff. Gendry took the seat beside her and Dany slid into the other side.

Their waitress greeted them as she placed their napkins and silverware on the table. She was young, tired too, no doubt she’d been on her feet for hours. Dany gave her a soft smile as she passed a small glass of ice water to her. Once she'd taken their drink orders she walked away, leaving Dany no more excuses to not meet Arya’s drilling stare across the table.

“You and my brother sure are chummy,” she said with a smirk, and not a nice one either.

Dany assumed she meant Robb and not Jon. He'd kept up a friendly conversation with her on their short walk over because Arya hadn't bothered to acknowledge either of them, her and Gendry walking several paces ahead.

She gave her a smile in return and herself a pep talk. _Fight fire with fire, Dany. Fire with fire._

“Robb’s a good guy, but you should have been here last night. He hated me almost as much as you do, right Gendry?” she asked, winking at him.

He choked on his water, his eyes huge as they stared at her. It took a few minutes of Arya patting him on the back until he could breathe again.

“You alright?” Dany asked, “I thought for a second there we might have to run back across the road.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m good,” he laughed, coughing a bit more.

Arya gave him an exasperated roll of her eyes and they sat in silence until Robb walked up and took the empty space beside Dany.

“So, you hated her yesterday, but today you’re besties?” Arya immediately started in on him. He'd barely got his butt in the seat.

Robb went stone still, his stare one of obvious irritation. “What did Jon ask you to do before we left? That you _promised_ him you’d do, I might add.”

Dany bit her lip and cut her eyes over to the drink cooler behind the counter. Prickly irritation was rolling off Robb in waves and he'd sounded very much like a stern father scolding his child. It was awkward to say the least. Gendry gave another cough.

It drew her eyes back across the table in time to see Arya deflate, shoulders shagging as she stared at her knife, the silver instrument flipping through her fingers deftly. “I promised him I would fix my fuck up,” she muttered.

“Then fix it, _princess_ ,” Robb ordered, sitting back and taking a sip of his water.

His sister cut him an evil glare, but it was quick. The waitress had returned with their drinks and the tension went down several notches as she took their orders. She walked off to holler them out to the cook the moment they were done.

Arya was playing the guilty teenage daughter to Robb's angry father almost perfectly. Eyes down cast, expression sullen, still worrying her knife. It was plain to see attitude and bravado were her defense mechanisms, and they didn’t work on Robb at all. She finally left the knife alone, dropping it with a loud clink, and looked up at Dany, actual regret in her beautiful grey eyes. Somehow they reminded Dany a lot of Jon’s.

Before she could speak, Dany stopped her, holding up a hand. “It’s okay. I understood Robb’s hesitancy about me yesterday, and I understand yours, too. I’m a complete stranger to you, of course you’d be wary of me.”

Arya considered her words for a moment then shook her head. “I still shouldn’t have said what I did, or acted that way, so for that, I’m sorry.”

Dany was taken aback at her sincerity, but not so much to withhold a smile. “Thank you.”

She nodded her dark head and let out a sigh. “Jon wasn’t happy with me when I left, and I don't like that at all. I’ll give you a fair chance if you being here makes him feel better.” She picked her knife up again, this time pointing it at Dany almost as if she was brandishing a weapon. “But if you hurt him, in any way, all bets are off.”

Gendry rolled his eyes and reached over, pushing Arya's hand down with his own. Robb was shaking his head beside her, his eyes closed.

Dany didn't let the threat ruffle her. Arya was only protecting a loved one. “Understood. It’s clear how much you love Jon, how much you all love him. He’s blessed to have all of you, and I promise I have absolutely no intention of using him, or hurting him in any way. That’s the last thing I want.”

Arya gave a sharp nod. “We'll be fine then, but I still wanna know why you're staying around.”

She dropped her eyes to her water glass, running a fingertip around the rim and down the side, clearing a path through the condensation. “Because he saved me. I owe him my life,” she said simply, because it was that simple at the heart of it. “My intention is only to show him my gratitude and return the sacrifice he made for me, if that’s at all possible.” She paused, met Arya's keen gaze. “I don’t think it is. There’s nothing I can say or do to make him understand what he did for me yesterday, but I’m gonna do my best to, but only for as long as he wants me here. I’ll be gone the second he doesn’t.”

“Don’t count on that happening anytime soon,” Robb muttered under his breath before turning his attention to the passing traffic outside.

She and Arya both gave him confused glances, but chose not to comment. Dany looked over at Gendry. He’d been awfully quiet, nervous she thought. It had to be Arya that had him tied in knots, because he hadn’t been nearly so uptight the night before. She was almost positive there was something between them now. Certainly from Gendry's side at least.

“How much did you tell her about me so I know what needs to be filled in?” she asked him.

“Oh uh, only the highlights. I had a hard time getting a word in edgewise,” he said, grinning. She returned his smile before giving Arya her attention again.

“Alright, so… I didn’t have time to tell him about myself before those assholes ruined our day. Before they came in we’d been talking maybe five or six minutes, max. Some friendly conversation while we waited. We mostly talked about his job. He didn’t asked my marriage status, and I didn’t offer it. I guess he assumed because of my ring. I haven’t had a chance to explain it to him here either, but I will as soon as I can. For right now, I’ll explain it to you. If you want,” she told her.

Arya nodded. “Yeah, I'd like to hear it.”

Dany didn't take the comment as anything other than the truth, whatever attitude Arya had had, seemed to have been tucked away. She took a sip of her water, and a deep breath, then let the words flow.

“I’m from Tennessee. I grew up in a tiny little town called Copperhill. My parents and brothers died when I was sixteen. Our house burned down in the middle of the night. They said it was a space heater. I’d been at a sleepover, or I wouldn’t be here either.”

Robb turned to her, elbows propped on the table, one fist cupped within his other hand. “I'm sorry. Jon's parents are gone too. Car accident when we were seven. They had gone off for their anniversary, he was staying with us.”

Something within her flipped about at that revelation, a quick rush of air leaving her lungs. But she wasn't given time to examine the feeling or the thoughts racing through her head. Their waitress had arrive with their food.

Plates were passed around and everyone got settled in to eat. Dany stared at her waffle, warm and sweet smelling, the melted butter pooling in the center. She pushed it off to the side of her plate with her fork and took the syrup Robb had slid over toward her, pouring some over the confection. Ten minutes before she couldn't wait to eat one, now, as she cut into it, she wasn't sure she could even get one bite down her throat.

“Well,” Arya mumbled around a mouthful of hamburger, “you gonna finish your story?”

Gendry cut her a look, but kept on eating his grits and eggs.

“Let her at least get some food in her Arya,” Robb fussed, spearing some hash browns onto his fork.

Dany shoved a couple bites of waffle into her mouth and forced herself to chew and swallow, washing it down with several gulps of water. “Sorry. Um, after that it was just me and my great-uncle Aemon,” she went on, poking at the melting glob of butter with her fork. “He was in his eighties and blind, but he was the only family I had left. He died of a stroke when I was eighteen. I met my husband right after. His parents were older, he was their only child. They sort of pushed us together. They treated me like their own from the beginning. I had a family again. We married, and things were great for a while. Then his dad had a massive heart attack and his mother was gone six months later from cancer.”

“Damn Dany, that… that's awful,” Gendry offered. “I'm real sorry.”

She gave him a weak smile and took another deep breath. They were all staring at her with pity, so she looked down at her waffle again, pushing the now mushy mess around on her plate.

“My in-laws left us well off, so if you’re worried I’m here for Jon’s money, don’t be. It’s the last thing I need,” she said, glancing at Arya. She went back to playing with her food doing her best to keep it together. She hadn’t spoken the next part out loud in a long time. She took another drink of water to help wash down the lump in her throat. It didn't help, so she just forced the words past it as best she could.

“Eighteen months after his mama passed, he… he was killed. A guy fell asleep at the wheel, hit his truck. It flipped a dozen times. He was thrown out. Died instantly, they said.”

Robb reached a hand over to comfort her, but Dany shook her head, and he quickly pulled it back. She drained the rest of her water, wishing for all she was worth it was something much stronger. She sat the glass down and went to slowly spinning it.

“Just like that, I was alone again. Needless to say, it left me in a dark place. My depression was so severe I spent the next several months basically catatonic. If it wasn’t for my two best friends I’d be long gone. They stayed, and did their best to keep me alive until they couldn’t stand to see me that way anymore.

“They got me into a grief treatment center in Atlanta. I was there for almost a year trying to learn how to function again. The depression lifted somewhat, but the anxiety and panic attacks took up the slack. I finally went back home and tried to live again, but after three months I couldn’t do it anymore. I was done fighting. I came here a few days ago with the intention of killing myself.”

That sat them all back in their seats, each one giving her a look of shock. She attempted to ignore the stares and kept going.

“I got some paperwork settled with my lawyer, packed a bag for appearance’s sake, and hopped a plane to Savannah. My husband’s family has owned a vacation house here since the early nineteen hundreds. It seemed like as good a place as any. I didn’t want to hurt my friends any more than I had to. I knew it would take them a while to figure it out. They would get a phone call instead of finding my body. So, for the past three days I’ve sat in that house staring at a big bottle of sleeping pills sitting on the nightstand. For some reason, I hadn’t taken them yet.”

She looked up again, Robb and Gendry were staring at her. They both lowered their heads when she made eye contact, but when she met Arya’s, she didn’t look away. Dany could see the understanding in the girl's solemn stare. Arya knew exactly what it was like feel that hopeless. She held her gaze and finished her story.

“I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t gone through with it yet, until yesterday when I met Jon. He stirred something in me, even in those short few minutes. He was so full of life, his eyes sparkled with it. It scared me, made me angry, and hopeful all at once. Then those assholes showed up, and the first thing Jon did was try to protect me.

“He thought a complete stranger was worth risking his life for. For some insane reason, he thought _I_ was worth that enormous risk. I know I wasn’t, but he meant to save me, and he did. Thing is, he knows he saved me physically, but he has no idea how he saved me here,” she told her, her hand over her heart, proud at how steady she'd managed to keep her voice.

“I don’t want to tell him all of this yet. He needs to concentrate on getting better, not on me and my pitiful self. I’ll let him know I’m a widow, but that’s all for now. Okay? If he still wants me around after he’s better, then I’ll tell him. Will y’all agree to that?”

One by one they nodded their heads in agreement, however none of them seemed to think it was for the best, especially Robb.

“I don’t think we should lie to him Dany,” he said, proving her suspicion. “He won’t be happy about it when he finds out.”

“None of us will be lying to him. If he asks, I'll tell him, but he has enough stress to deal with right now. I don’t intend to add to it by giving him my sob story. I’m pretty sure he’s the type that will worry more about me and my stress than his own. I promise I’ll tell him, but not until he’s doing better, okay?”

He let out yet another one of his big sighs. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

She opened her mouth to fuss back, but her phone rang. Her heart clenched to see it was a hospital number.

“It must be Gilly,” she told them, putting it on speaker. “Is he okay?” she asked without saying hello.

“ _He’s the same,_ ” Gilly answered, “ _but the orthopedic surgeon showed up sooner than we thought he would. He wants him in surgery right away. Jon really wants to see y’all before they take him back._ ”

“Tell him we’re coming right now.”

They were up and halfway out the door by the time she hung up.


	7. Am I part of the cure? Or am I part of the disease?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets a chance to talk to Dany and his family before another surgery and Dany and Gendry take a ride to Jon's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, got some more broken beans for you :) Big shout out to Jalenmara for going over this chapter for me. Thank you, Meg! <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think.

 

The lights go out and I can't be saved  
Tides that I tried to swim against  
Have brought me down upon his knees  
Oh I beg, I beg and plead, singing

Come out of things unsaid  
Shoot an apple off his head and a  
Trouble that can't be named  
A tiger's waiting to be tamed, singing

You are  
You are

Confusion never stops  
Closing walls and ticking clocks  
Gonna come back and take you home  
I could not stop that you now know, singing

Come out upon his seas  
Cursed missed opportunities  
Am I a part of the cure?  
Or am I part of the disease? Singing

You are, you are, you are  
You are, you are, you are

And nothing else compares  
Oh nothing else compares  
And nothing else compares

You are  
You are

Home, home where I wanted to go

Clocks - Coldplay

 

He was jolted awake by a sudden spike of pain shooting through his leg. He couldn’t help but growl at the white-coated offender that caused it, standing at the foot of his bed. “What the hell are you doing?” he gritted out, none too nicely.

“My apologies, Mr. Snow. I had hoped to examine your leg while you were out from the morphine. Sorry for the pain I caused. I’m Dr. Luwin, the orthopedic surgeon. Your nurse called me while I was on vacation, and begged me to come back early to see to you. I’m most glad she did. We need to get you into surgery straight away.”

He really wasn't awake enough to register what the man was telling him. Only one word got through his muddled brain. “Surgery?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, Mr. Snow. We should be able to have you in surgery in the next thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes? Is it so bad that it has to be done right now?”

"Yes, it does."

His urgency had Jon struggling to clear the heavy fog from his mind. He rubbed at his face and took a few deep breaths, it helped a little. But he’d been concentrating so hard on waking up that he'd failed to notice his leg was uncovered. For the first time he could see how bad it actually was.

_And he was gonna be sick._

What was left of his leg between his knee and foot looked as if it had been through a meat grinder. Swollen, twisted strangely, nothing but a large, gaping, bloody hole where his shin used to be.

_Holy hell, please don't throw up._

He brought his right hand up and covered his face as fast as his morphine haze would let him. The fact that he felt drunk off his ass from said morphine wasn’t helping his nausea any.

Just thinking of the pain puking would cause literally made him want to cry, and he _didn’t_ cry. They’d have to kill him to put him out of his misery if he did– if the pain didn’t do it first.

He swallowed against the rising bile, tried to breathe deeply. He felt the sheet lay against his leg again. The doctor must've noticed what had to be his ash white face.

“Sorry about that,” the doctor murmured.

Jon cracked his eyes open, peeking through his fingers to see if the coast was clear before focusing on his visitor again.

The doctor gave him a small, kind smile. “I’m afraid there’s no choice but to operate as soon as possible. The bullet shattered quite a bit of your tibia. I'll need to put in a rod, plates, and some pins to repair the damage. Despite the antibiotics you’ve been receiving, there are signs of infection beginning. It must be removed quickly before it spreads. The sooner we get you into surgery the better,” the surgeon explained.

_Shit, none of that sounded good._

“Probably better fix it then,” he said, groaning in unison with his queasy stomach. Then another horrible thought hit him as good as a fist to the gut. His eyes shot to the doctor, his heart pounding. “I’m not gonna lose my leg, am I?” he asked, his voice more unsteady than he cared for.

“If we had waited until Monday that could’ve been a possibility, but it’s very unlikely right now. I will do my best to have you walking normally again in a few months, Mr. Snow,” he said, trying to sound reassuring, Jon supposed. It helped, but only a little. “I’m going to get everyone started in the operating room. I'll see you shortly.” With a formal nod in Jon's direction, he turned and left quietly.

“Son of a bitch,” he moaned into the room, covering his face with his hand again.

_All this for a fucking cup of coffee._

“You’re not talking to me, are you?” Gilly asked walking in, her voice carrying a teasing tone.

“Sorry, no. Just to life in general. I don’t think I realized until now how bad of shape I’m in.”

Gilly rubbed his shoulder, smiling at him. “We’re gonna take good care of you, and get you outta here as soon as we can. You’ll be back to normal before you know it. I promise.” Jon wasn’t so sure he believed her. She held out a pen and clipboard to him. “This is the consent form for your surgery. Do you have any questions before you sign it?”

“No, but umm, is Dany still here? And my cousins, are they close by? I’d like to see them again, before they take me back,” he told her, his voice shaking a bit as he signed the form.

_He sounded like a scared little boy. He fucking hated it._

“They went to eat while you were sleeping, but I can have 'em here in a jiffy, I have all their numbers. I’m gonna send them in one at a time, so who do you want to see first?”

“Dany,” he said without hesitation.

Gilly’s smile turned bright, her eyes twinkling. “Okay, I’ll go call them right now.” She patted his shoulder one more time before walking out.

He immediately went to work on calming himself down. He was not gonna lose it in front of Dany, he refused to upset her again.

_Get it together, Jon. You need to suck it up, and take this like a man for heaven’s sake. You didn’t die. You’re not gonna die. Everything will be fine. Just fucking breathe._

He kept repeating his little mantra until he heard muffled voices outside his room. Another minute dragged by, each second an eternity, before his door slid open. A rush of air left him as Dany slipped through the curtain and into the room. She was smiling a little, but she was also nibbling on her lip and wringing her hands, her shoulders curled in like she was trying to hide. Seeing her so nervous made his chest ache with a different kind of pain.

“Hey, I was afraid you left,” he said softly, not wanting to scare her any more than she already was. He held his hand out, hoping to coax her over.

Her eyes darted from him, to his hand, then the floor–seeming to be wrestling with herself, but then she looked up again, met his gaze, and something changed. In her eyes, her entire being, in the space between them. He felt it, almost like the bliss one feels from finding an elusive puzzle piece after hours of searching and finally slipping it into place.

If he'd been on his feet, the force of it would've had him stumbling.

She walked over and wrapped his hand up in both of hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t leave, and I won’t, unless you want me too.”

“I don't,” he blurted, unable to keep his feelings contained.

Her smile grew, a pink glow blooming across her cheeks, and he was certain she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She made him feel weightless, his stomach turning somersaults, head spinning. Probably the drugs, but he didn't think so.

He couldn’t explain what she was doing to him–what she'd been doing to him from the moment he laid eyes on her–but he liked it. Was quickly growing addicted to it. He should examine it more, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care. Having her close felt right, that was good enough for now.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense. We hardly know each other, but… I… I need you here. I don’t know why, I just do,” he confessed, muscles tense, ready for her to change her mind. He sounded like some kind of sap, and that was probably the last thing she wanted from him. He normally wasn't and was really beginning to think the morphine was making him emotional.

That was the excuse he was gonna use anyway.

But, thankfully, her smile turned sweeter, and she rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “Okay then. It’s decided. I’m staying. For as long as you want me to,” she promised.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling up at her, the tension bleeding from his muscles, only for her brows to furrow. She started worrying her bottom lip again too. He squeezed her hand. “Hey, you okay?”

She shook her head. “I uh… I’m sorry about running off earlier. I didn’t plan on you finding out that way. I had hoped we would get a chance to talk so I could explain, but Arya beat me to it. Did you notice my ring when we were at Starbucks?”

“Yeah, right before those bastards walked in. And I’m sorry about Arya, she can be... difficult.”

Her pretty face twisted into a wry grimace. “She’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, she is,” he laughed softly, “but she’s family, I put up with it. So, I’m guessing it’s not a wedding ring then, since you said you weren’t married. Do you wear it to keep the creepers at bay?” He had no clue what he wanted her answer to be. His brain was still too mushy to care right then, he was just glad she wasn't spoken for.

_Or is she?_

“Wait, are you engaged to someone?”

_God, he hoped she wasn't._

She shook her head again, and looked down at their hands, but he didn’t miss the tears gathering in her blue-gold eyes. “I was married," she answered softly. "I’m a widow. My husband died two years ago. I’ve never taken the ring off.”

_Fuck. He never would have thought… He was such an asshole._

“God, Dany, I’m so sorry. That…”

A single tear slipped down her cheek, but she shook her head. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. We can talk about it later when you get back up here, and have a chance to rest some more, okay?”

All that pain he'd seen in her made sense now, and it broke his heart. Losing his parents was the worst experience of his life. What he was dealing with now would be a close second, but he couldn’t imagine losing a spouse. He squeezed her hand again.

“I’m sorry. Thank you for staying with me, it means even more to me now.”

She wiped her cheek and nodded while attempting to smile, then cleared her throat and took a few deep, shaky breaths, trying her hardest to keep herself together.

She was killing him. Losing it in front of her was a very real possibility, but he swallowed at the knot in his throat and kept his grip on her hand steady.

“I better go so Arya can come see you. Robb and Gendry are waiting, too,” she said, “I’ll see you soon.” She leaned closed, to do what he wasn't sure.

Nor did he know what possessed him to reached through her hair, and gently grab the back of her neck. He pulled her down before he thought better of it and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, slipping his hand out of her hair so she could stand back up. She stood there, staring at him, eyes wide, the emotions in them changing so fast he had no hope of keeping up.

Finally, she gave him a wobbly, teary smile. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” she whispered, squeezing his hand one more time before letting go and hurrying out the door.

He didn’t get time to think about what happened between them before Arya came walking in, smirking. “Look who’s making her cry now.”

He scowled, and waved her over. “Hush and c’mere.”

She leaned down and they kissed each other’s cheeks. “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier. The pain makes me cranky,” he apologized.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m the one who upset you. You know I can’t help being protective of you. Especially now.”

“I know. It’s okay. But, did you fix things with her?”

“Yes, Jon. Dany and I are fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes, then narrowed them at him suspiciously. “You really like her, don’t you? It’s more than going through the robbery together, isn't it?”

He shrugged, careful of his shoulder. “I don’t really know what it is. From the moment I saw her she made me feel something I don't think I ever have. And yeah, I know we only had a few minutes’ worth of time together before all hell broke loose, but something was definitely there.” He sighed, picking at stray thread in the blanket laying over him. “I’m sure going through what we did yesterday probably has something to do with it though.”

_That's not what he wanted it to be, for him, or for her. Only time would tell. Lucky or not, he had plenty of that now._

Arya studied him, her brows drawn together, mouth tight. “Okay, but remember, you hardly know her. Take things slow, okay?”

He chuffed and waved his hand over himself. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

She smirked. “No, I guess you don’t. How bad’s your leg anyway?” she asked, turning and reaching to pull the sheet off of it.

“Arya, don’t!” he warned her too late.

She dropped it, her face a mask of horror, before quickly turning red. “Holy fuck! Why in the hell did they leave you like that? I’m going to kill that bastard doctor when I see him!”

“Sis, calm down. The doctor I needed was gone, but he’s back, and he’s gonna fix it. He said I’d be walking again in a few months. Just chill, please? I can’t deal with any more right now.”

She closed her eyes and breathed deep through her nose, her tongue licking across her teeth. The fury was leashed when she looked up again, thankfully. “All right. I’m sorry. I’ll calm down, but,” she held a indignant finger up and pointed it at him, eyes narrowed, “if they don't do everything perfectly I _will_ make their lives hell,” she threatened. “You know I can.”

_Oh, he knew it alright._

His little sister was a computer genius. _Hacker,_ to be more precise. One who got caught and was now on Uncle Sam's very tight leash.

He pointed a finger right back at her. “You will _not_ go near a single computer in this hospital. Not for me, do you understand? You barely made it out of the last _job_ , and they already watch you like a hawk. I can't believe they let you come as it is.”

“I didn't ask.”

“ _Arya!_ ”

“Stop, or your pain will get bad again. It's fine, I swear. I handled it. They know I'm here and they're okay with it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He cut her a look, but waved her closer anyway. “Come give me a hug, and I’ll see you later.”

She leaned over and hugged him as best she could. “I’ll see you.”

“Behave while I’m gone.”

“Yes, brother dear. I promise to be a perfect angel,” she said smirking, and headed toward the door.

“Yeah, right.”

Robb and Gendry came in right after her, both giving him smiles.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey. We gotta make it quick. The nurse said they're on their way up here from surgery to get you,” Robb told him.

_Shit, that sure didn’t take long._

Gendry walked over and shook his hand. “You’re looking better than you did yesterday. I’m glad to see you awake. You scared us shitless.”

“Sorry about that. I guess you got 'em up to date at work?” Gendry nodded. “Thanks, I hate it, but can you tell them they’re gonna need to find someone else to finish up the year for me.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Gendry said. “They’re already taking care of it. They’ll find someone. You concentrate on getting better. I’m sure you’ll be ready for the fall semester when it comes round.”

“I sure as hell hope so.” He smiled, but really didn’t find it funny at all. Spending his summer being an invalid was _not_ his idea of a vacation.

Gendry gave him a sympathetic look and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll get outta the way so you can talk to Robb. I’ll see ya when you get done.”

“See ya later, thanks for coming,” he told him as he walked out.

Robb had his hands braced on the bed rail and was looking down at him. Jon hated the worry written all over his face. “What is it? You’re making me nervous.”

His cousin gave a small grin and shook his head. “Nothin’, I just hate seeing you like this.” He sniffed and stood back up, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sansa called, she'd be here but they've all got some kind of nasty virus. I told her to stay at home, you sure as shit don't need that. She said she'd come as soon as they were sure they were over it.”

Jon shook his head. “Tell her it's alright, she doesn't need to be dragging the kids all the way down here, and if she came alone they’d need her at home.” He'd never been that close to her, thanks to Cat. He still cared about her and he thought she might care about him too, but he wouldn't be surprised if they weren't sick at all.

“What about Dad and them? Heard from 'em lately?”

Robb nodded. “Yep. This morning actually. He's trying his best to get things covered out there so he can get here.”

“You told him no, didn't you?”

His uncle was in the middle of getting a new company off the ground in New York. They'd moved there just after Bran had fallen. The doctors were better.

“Yeah, but you know him. I expect he'll be here in another day or two, and he'll be calling soon too I bet. How’s your pain? You can’t let it get that bad again.”

“It’s okay right now, but trust me, I’ll stay on top of it. Did you see that shit?” he asked, pointing to his leg. “Cause I had no idea it was that bad until the surgeon woke me up poking at it a while ago.”

Robb winced hard. “Yeah. They didn’t have it covered up while you were still out from the anesthesia. Those bastards did a number on you.”

“Tell me about it. It scares the shit out of me, but I think I may have come close to dying yesterday. I still don’t really know how bad it actually was because I haven't seen the other surgeon." _Fuck, he really hoped there were no more surprising waiting for him._ "Did you talk to him?”

“Nope, but Dany and Gendry did. I’m sure they can tell you what he said.”

Maybe he wouldn’t forget to ask them after he woke up from his second round of anesthesia.

He needed to think about something else, his chest was feeling tight, and his stomach was rolling again. “Are Dany and Arya really alright with each other?” He knew Robb would tell him the truth, and there was nothing like a girl to distract you.

"I had to get on Arya’s ass a few times," Robb answered, "but I think they’re good now. They both want the same thing, which is for you to get better. They should be fine.”

“What do you think about her?”

“I wasn’t sure about her at first. We had a few tense conversations actually, but I like her.”

He scowled at him. “Tense conversations? Why?”

“Jon, she pretended to be your fiancée to get up here,” he told him with a chuckle.

He couldn't contain the smile that took over his face. “She did?”

Robb shook his head and rolled his eyes, grinning the whole time. “She was afraid they wouldn’t let her see you if she didn’t. I didn’t trust her. All I could think was that she was in on the robbery, and you were the target.”

Jon snorted. “You seriously thought she was part of that? I appreciate you for looking out for me, but you’ve been watching too much TV,” he laughed, as gently as possible.

“That’s what Sam said, too,” Robb chuffed. “It sounds idiotic now, but I wasn’t there to see how it went down. All I knew when I got here was that this strange chick was pretending to be your fiancée, and she was extremely attached to you already. I had a right to be suspicious.”

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that, but what about now that you know her better? By the way, it pisses me the hell off you know her better than me.” He cut him a scathing glare.

“I bet it does.” Robb laughed again, then he looked away and sighed before shaking it off. “Like I said, I like her. She’s a tough cookie, and for some reason, I’m assuming because you saved her, she’s decided to be your guardian. She’s like a mama bear when it comes to you.”

 _Firecracker was more like it._ He could still see her standing toe to toe with that gunman, blue flames burning in her eyes. Had his heart racing just thinking about it. “I’ve seen how tough she is," he told him. "Did she tell you she almost slapped one of the robbers when he had guns on us?”

Robb's eyes almost fell out of his head. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. The bastard was saying really crude shit about her. By the time I decided to kick his ass for it, she was sassing him and her hand was coming up. His was too. Everything went to hell after that…”

How in the hell did they got out of there alive he'd never know. Weird thing was, he was more freaked out now than when it happened. He could have died. _Fuck, he almost did._ She could've too. _He should've stayed calmer, been smarter._

“Hey, you all right?” Robb asked, squeezing his shoulder.

Jon took some deep breaths, his head laid back and eyes closed. “Yeah, I’m okay. Foggy because of the morphine, I think.”

_Maybe he’d believe that._

A knock sounded against his door. “Your ride’s here, Jon,” Gilly called out. Her voice was way too chipper for the occasion.

Robb smiled down at him warily, and gripped his hand in his. “I’ll see ya soon, bro. Behave for ‘em.”

“I’ll try my best,” he told him, forcing himself to smile back as he left.

Gilly waved in two guys in green scrubs. They got right to work unhooking him from everything in the room.

“I’m Jack, and this is Mike,” one of them introduced themselves. “We’re going to be your chauffeurs today. You can just lay back and enjoy the ride.” He sounded as happy as Gilly had.

_Did they honestly think acting so enthusiastic was going to take his mind off the fact that he was headed to surgery? He wasn’t a damn five-year-old._

Then he realized his leg would have to be unhooked from the ceiling and laid on the bed. Panic gripped him.

“Uh, Gilly? Please tell me you have more pain meds for me before they try to move my leg.”

“I sure do, hon, they’re next on the list,” she said, coming over to him. “It’s not morphine, but it’ll make you high as a kite as soon as I start it. You’ll get super sleepy right after that. You may still feel a little pain, but nothing like you would if I didn’t give it to you. You ready?” she asked, smiling again.

“I can’t wait,” he said, more sarcastic than he meant to.

She smirked and stuck the needle in his IV, squeezing the plunger thing. Two seconds later his head was swimming off his shoulders.

_Hello high! Damn, that was fast._

His eyes slammed shut, and he felt as if he was floating above bed. It was some good stuff, whatever it was. They moved his leg around and a mild wave of pain hit him, but a second later he already didn’t give a shit. He groaned the first time the bed shook under him. But again, he didn’t care.

“You wanna tell these folks bye, Mr. Snow?” someone yelled over his head.

Jon pulled his eyelids up to see Arya and Gendry wave at him then float away. Robb bumped his fist, he thought, and the last thing he registered was a blurry Dany smiling down at him.

 

*~*

She couldn’t help but smile as they rolled Jon back to surgery. He was so drunk from the meds they gave him. The poor thing was waving his good arm around like he was swatting at things no one else could see. Thank goodness he never tried to move the rest of his injured self.

They all stood motionless and silent, staring at the doors they'd taken him through as if they’d turned into a group of zombies. Robb finally broke their trance when he let out a loud sigh. “We better go to the waiting room. Gilly probably won’t like us hanging around out here,” he said. They all turned as one and headed toward the doors.

“How long did they say it would take again?” Gendry asked.

“Two hours for the surgery, and another one until they get back down here with him,” Arya answered.

They made it to the waiting room and picked an empty corner. Robb looked up at them as he sat down. “Did any of you hear how long he said his recovery would be?”

“Three months, maybe more,” Dany offered. “If he heals enough from the other surgery, and his broken shoulder blade he may be able to use crutches soon. Most likely he’ll either be flat on his back, or in a wheelchair for weeks while all of that heals,” she told him, sinking down into a chair, her guilt threatening to rise up and swallow her again.

“Damn,” Robb swore. He rubbed a hand around the back of his neck, kneading at the tension that no doubt resided there. “That’s a long time for anyone. He’s gonna be so pissed. Give him another week, and we won’t be able to stand him he’ll be so cranky.” He groaned and wiped his hands down his face before leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

"You'd have to kill me," Arya muttered.

Gendry snorted, his head craned around to look at her as he smirked. "Yeah, cause you're nothing but a thunderstorm walking around in a woman's body. Jon'll be fine. He's more like the gentle rain that comes after you."

Arya tilted her head at him, her grey eyes narrowed. "Are you a fucking poet now? Shut up with that shit."

Gendry blushed bright red and got up and left. Dany felt heartbroken for the poor guy, he so obviously had it bad for Arya and she was either too blind to see it or, didn't care. Dany thought the ladder was more likely. Life was so unfair.

"You could be a little nicer, you know," Robb scolded his sister, his voice low. "Gen's a good guy. You could do a whole lot worse."

Arya scoffed. "I live across a fucking ocean, in case you forgot." She let out a frustrated huff through her nose and fell quiet, fingers fidgeting with the zipper on her coat. "He deserves better than me," she finally mumbled, "I'm only trying to make him see that."

"Arya," Robb moaned. "That ain't—"

"Shut up. It's my business, not yours. I don't need your help," she snarled and snatched up a magazine, pretending to be engrossed in it all of a sudden.

Robb let out one of his weary sighs and turned to look at Dany. “Who told you all of that stuff about Jon by the way?” he asked her. He was obviously ready for a change of subject. She didn't blame him.

“Gilly did, late yesterday," she answered. "She said the surgeon that worked on him first would come talk to us today and the ortho surgeon will, too, once he’s finished.”

Robb shared a look with her and they both dropped their eyes to the floor. He sniffed, she cleared their throat.

Jon was in for a hell of a time and they both knew it.

Memories old and new began invading her mind, the guilt rising up to weigh her down again. She got up and paced, trying to think of anything else she could to distract herself.

The hospital was easy enough. She was sick of it already–its stringent smells, freezing air, and buzzing lights grating her every nerve–but she may as well get used to it since they were gonna be there for a long time. Unlike poor Jon, at least she could move around and even leave if she wanted to. And boy, did she want to.

She desperately needed to go get some of her clothes and things. She needed to call Tyrion and Missandei. She was shocked they hadn’t tried to call her already. It was only Saturday, though and she talked to them Thursday, they shouldn’t be worried yet.

_Had she really only been there a day? It seemed like forever and a day. Surely she'd have time to run to the house and get some things and be back before he was out of surgery. She'd give it a try._

She walked over to Robb and tapped his boot with her foot. “Don’t freak out on me again, but I think I’m gonna run to the house, get some clothes and things while he’s in surgery. I promise I’ll come right back. I’d rather go now instead of after he's done. I want to be here when he wakes up. He’ll never have to know I left,” she told him.

He sat forward and studied her a moment, his brow creased. “How far are you from here, and which direction? I could go with you, grab some of my stuff on the way.”

It was easy enough to see he didn’t want her going alone. Whether that was for her sake, or keeping an eye on her, she wasn't sure.

“I’m out on the west side of Wilmington Island.”

His face fell a bit. “That’s the opposite way from me, we may need to go separately.”

“It’s not from Jon’s place,” Gendry piped up from the doorway. He'd snuck back in while she wasn't looking. He had a can of Mountain Dew in his hand, and a solemn look to go with it. “I need to go check on Ghost for him, could pick up a few of his things to bring back. We should be able to be back in an hour, hour and a half, if we only make the two stops.”

“Who’s Ghost?” she asked.

“Jon’s dog,” Arya muttered from behind her magazine. “There's a doggie door for him to get outside, but his food and water probably need to be checked.”

She nodded and looked over at Gendry. “That works for me if it does for you.”

“Yep. I’m ready when you are.”

*~*

Fifteen minutes later they were pulling up to Jon’s townhouse. She loved it the second she laid eyes on it. It was a lovely three story made of red brick with black shutters. Ivy was growing up the railing of the front steps, going over to and all the way up the corner of the house. She couldn’t wait to see the inside. Then it hit her.

_How in the hell were they gonna get him in that house in a few weeks?_

“Gendry, is there a street level entrance anywhere on the house? He’s gonna have a tough time getting inside if there isn't,” she said looking over her shoulder at him.

His face twisted into a worried frown after hearing that. “There’s one in the back, but that won’t really help. There's more stairs to get him up from down there. The living areas are on the second floor and the bedrooms are on the third. The first floor is his studio. We could probably get a hospital bed and leave him on the second level? It would save whoever stays with him from going up and down all those stairs a dozen times a day.”

“I guess it depends on what he’s most comfortable with. It’ll be months before he can climb any stairs,” she said quietly. Her worry and anxiety started to ratchet up again, her stomach churning thinking of how complicated Jon’s life is about to become–all because of her.

“God, what did I do to him?” she whispered.

Gendry reached over, and patted her back awkwardly. “You didn’t do anything to him. None of what happened is your fault. I know he told you that already, Robb told me he did.”

“I know, but if I had stayed home, he wouldn’t be in this mess. If I hadn’t smarted off to that asshole Jon wouldn’t have tried to stop him from hitting me. So it is my fault! All this suffering he’s going through is because of me!”

“Wait a minute. You didn't tell me that the other day.”

“See? It is my fault! I’m cursed. People die because of me, Gendry!”

“Dany, please calm down,” he begged, rubbing her back this time. “Jon didn’t die. You know that. You know he’s gonna to be back to normal soon. He’s strong and he’ll get through it. And even if you did smart off to one of 'em, that still doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t ask those guys to rob that place, or tell 'em to bring guns. I’m sure if you sassed him, there was a reason for it. I bet Jon thinks so, too.”

She tried to get control of herself as best she could, but it took several minutes before she was breathing normally again, and not in danger of leaking all over Gendry’s truck anymore.

“Can you tell me what happened to make you say something to the guy?” he asked.

She glanced at him then down at her lap. “He threatened to take me with them, and he was talking really nasty to me. I mean really nasty. He rubbed the gun down my face and neck, and then…” she waved at her chest.

“Bastard,” he said with disgust.

“Yeah. It pissed me off so bad, and I could see Jon was ready to kill him. I thought I could keep his attention on me if I sassed him. I figured if I let Jon at him things wouldn’t turn out so well. Turns out they didn’t anyway,” she sighed. “The guy went to slap me, and that’s when Jon jumped in to stop him. One of the guns went off, and he didn’t even realize he’d been shot in the head. But I did,” she whispered.

“I saw him stumble. He had blood pouring down the side of his face, but he kept wrestling with the guy. I pulled on him as hard as I could, and screamed for him to get down, but he only pushed me back. That’s when I fell and hit my head. Next thing I knew he was covering me with his own body, and I could hear and feel when the other bullets hit him–the impacts, the groans of pain he made. The whole time he kept talking to me. ‘I’ve got you Dany, I’ve got you’. He said it over and over while I was screaming for him to save himself, and not me. He didn’t listen.”

They sat there in silence for several minutes, except for her sniffling–her trying to stop reliving it, and Gendry trying to absorb everything she'd told him, she supposed.

“It sounds to me like it wouldn’t have mattered what you did,” he finally said. “He would’ve gone after that guy either way. I know him pretty well, and he would’ve never let that guy hurt you, and I guarantee he wouldn’t have let them take you either. He probably would’ve died before he let them get out that door with you. He’s not the type of person to stand by and not help someone when they need it. You remind me of him in that way,” he said, grinning over at her.

She snorted. “You mean we’re both stubborn, and don’t listen to anyone, right?”

He laughed a little. “Maybe, but mostly you have big hearts and kind souls. You’re good people.”

“Thank you, but you hardly know me.”

“And you hardly know Jon, yet here you are, doing everything you can to help him. That’s enough for me.”

She smiled at him, feeling a bit lighter. “He’s very lucky to have a friend like you.”

Gendry went a bit pink, his grin getting bigger. “Thanks, but that applies to you, too.” He nodded toward the house. “You ready to go in?”

“Yeah, we better hurry if we want to get everything done and get back.”

They both climbed from of the car, and she followed him up the steps. Gendry looked over his shoulder at her as he unlocked the door. “By the way, don’t be afraid of Ghost. He’s big, but he's a sweetheart, I promise,” he said, swinging the door open.

A large blur of white came tearing down the hall at them, full speed, sliding to a halt at Gendry’s feet. If his tongue hadn't been lolling out and his floof of a tail not wagging, she may have been frightened. Bright red eyes danced between her and Gendry, staring intently. He was one of the biggest dogs she'd ever seen. He was as quiet as could be too. It didn't take much to imagine him transforming into a ferocious beast.

“Good Lord, he's huge,” she whispered as he sniffed at her. He suddenly jumped up and she almost fell over, his massive paws on her shoulders as he proceeded to cover her face with wet kisses from his raspy tongue.

“Ghost, that’s enough. Get down,” Gendry told him calmly, and he immediately sat at her feet.

She gave his giant head a few loving strokes, and his eyes fell closed. She swore he was smiling. “He’s so beautiful. What is he? I’ve never seen a dog like him before.”

Gendry reached out and scratched under a furry ear. Ghost's head flopped over and pressed into the affection. “He’s some kind of wolf hybrid we think. Jon found him under an abandoned house when he was out running one day. He was a tiny thing then. He brought him into class with him. Kept him either on his lap or in his arms that whole day. Said it was so he wouldn’t disrupt class, but when he took him home with him that afternoon we all knew it was because he'd claimed him already. Ghost’s every bit as attached to him.”

“How in the world couldn’t you fall in love with this face? Look at him,” she cooed while scrubbing through the thick ruff of his neck. “You miss your Dad, don’t you boy? The poor thing, I hate the thought of leaving him here by himself for weeks.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll come back by and get him tonight. He’s stayed with me before when Jon’s gone to visit Arya,” he said, walking further into the house and into the kitchen.

She finally got her mind off the dog and took in her surroundings. Jon's house was gorgeous, like it could be in a magazine gorgeous. Not one of those girly ones, but the high-end ones like _Architectural Digest_ or something.

It was so clean and neat. There was a lot of black and white, with a few pops of masculine colors here and there. Jon was right when he'd said he had new and old furniture here. She could see very modern pieces mixed in with antiques. She loved it. Could easily imagine him walking through the rooms in his jeans and white shirt with his bare feet. He would fit right into those beautiful pictures in the magazines.

_Okay Dany, enough! He won’t be walking through here like that for months, bare feet or not. And he is not yours to be thinking about that way._

“I’m gonna run upstairs and get some stuff for him,” Gendry said, breaking her out of her internal musings. “Make yourself at home. Wander around and check out the house if you want,” he told her as he finished up with Ghost’s food. The poor thing immediately started chowing down.

_He must’ve been starving, bless his heart._

She left him to it, and walked around, checking out the house. The kitchen was huge and all black and white with stainless steel appliances. She was in love with his stove. It had eight burners and two ovens underneath it.

_Wonder if he ever actually used it. Maybe if he had his students over?_

She could see him standing in front of that stove cooking. He'd be making breakfast for her, wearing only in his boxer briefs, all of his smooth, pale back and chest on display. She could imagine herself walking up to him wearing nothing but his white shirt, running her hands up the hard muscles of his stomach, and up to his chest as she kissed her way across his back from shoulder to shoulder.

_God, Dany! Stop! What the hell is wrong with you?_

She hurried out of the kitchen, and hopefully away from her perverted thoughts, heading outside to the terrace. His backyard wasn't big, but it was nice and shady with several large trees sprinkled throughout. There was a patio area below her, and another small terrace above on the third floor. She imagined it was connected to the master bedroom. She would not be taking herself and her perverted mind up there to find out though.

_Lord knows what kind of things her brain would come up with if she saw his bed._

She went back in, and wandered through the living room. The sofa was big, white, and spacious. He might be able to spend a few weeks on it if he needed to. It was low to the ground though. A hospital bed might be the way to go for a while. She was sure he’d hate that idea.

She walked into the hallway, running her hand along the thick, shiny black banister of the stairs. It was so ornate, she couldn’t imagine the work that went into it. Since she wasn't going upstairs to see the bedrooms, she decided to go downstairs and see his studio. Half way down Ghost scared her to death as he flew by and zipped straight outside through his doggy door.

_When you gotta go, you gotta go._

The first thing she noticed was the smell. If she closed her eyes, she'd think she was in a forest. She was surrounded by the scent of fresh wood. It was comforting for some reason. Other than two gorgeous modern chairs, everything in the room looked old– old enough that her father probably would’ve thought it was all old, too.

The toolboxes, the work bench and stools–not to mention the hundreds of tools he had everywhere–were all worn with age. Despite that, everything looked as if it had been lovingly preserved to be passed down to the next one that would use them. She had no idea what most of the tools were for, but could tell they had been used to make many things over the years.

She walked over to one of the modern chairs, fingers running over the beautiful wood sections on it. They looked to be mostly made from some type of plastic or resin, she thought, molded surely, but they had gorgeous sections of wood seamlessly fitted into the arms. The legs were made of the same wood as well. The design twisted and flowed as smoothly as water would. They stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the room. She was still marveling at them when Gendry came down the stairs.

“Did he make these?” she asked without looking up.

“Yep. Those are some of my favorites of his.”

“I’ve never thought of furniture being a piece of art, but these definitely are. They’re amazing.”

“Agreed. Jon's an incredible talent. I love how he mixes the old with the new. We’re lucky to have him at the school.” After a minute or two of silence he spoke up again. “I hate to rush you, but we better run.”

“Oh gosh! Sorry, I was in my own little world. It was nice getting to know him a little better. I just wish he was here to tell me about all of this. Let’s go, I’m ready.”

Ghost was still outside running around so they left him to it. Twenty minutes later and they were heading down her driveway.

_Her driveway. That sounded weird. Not bad, but weird._

“This is a beautiful place, Dany,” Gendry said as soon as they pulled up.

It really was. Not that she had anything to do with it. The lawyers for the estate had hired folks to look after the place and keep it up. Otherwise it would've been in shambles. It wasn't big, but as it was, it too looked like something out of a magazine, at least on the outside, with its live oak lined driveway, sweeping staircase, and wrap around porch surrounded by crepe myrtles and azaleas. _Southern Living_ at its, _almost_ finest.

The inside was another story, it hadn't been updated since the early seventies. It was an more of a mustard yellow, burnt orange, and brown explosion. _Not a pretty sight._

“Thanks, I think so, too. I can finally be grateful that I have it. The memories aren’t so bad here.” She got out and headed up the brick steps, the heat wafting up around her legs. He followed right behind. “I won’t be a minute. Look around if you want. The view off the back porch is great,” she told him as they walked in.

She went straight to her room and over to her suitcase. She'd never bothered to unpack it. Pulling out some clean clothes she ran to the bathroom, freshened up and changed. That done she made her way back to her suitcase and picked out some more clothes to take with her. She could take the whole thing, but it was too bulky. She searched around in the closet hoping to find a smaller bag to put some stuff in, and finally found an old canvas book tote.

It didn’t smell too musty, so she threw the clothes in, being sure to grab Margaery’s scrubs to take back to her. Maybe the hospital had somewhere she could wash them. She added a few of her bathroom things then pulled her charger off the wall, and headed back out. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Gendry looking at the one picture she'd brought from home.

He quickly put it down. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Dany walked over, staring down at the familiar faces, like always.

“Y’all look happy.”

“We were, for a little while anyway,” she whispered.

“Was he—”

“Yeah, he was.” She trailed her fingers over the frame, then made sure it was straight. “You ready?”

“Umm, sure. Let’s get back and check on our hero.”


	8. And tell me some things last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon wakes from surgery a second time and meets with his doctors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our sweet, adorable bean is awake. No more surgeries for him after this! Now starts the road to recovery. Hope you enjoy. It's a bit shorter than my usual, but I was told on good authority it's for the best. Huge thanks to Ash and Jalenmara for holding my hand through this and for giving me some firm nudges when needed. They're helping me tell a better story and I love them for it. Love you ladies. 
> 
> Bit of a warning, there's some medical stuff in this one that might make a few of you squeamish. 
> 
> Happy reading <3

 

 

Take my mind

And take my pain

Like an empty bottle takes the rain

And heal, heal, heal, heal

And take my past

And take my sense

Like an empty sail takes the wind

And heal, heal, heal, heal

 

And tell me some things last

And tell me some things last

 

Take a heart

And take a hand

Like an ocean takes the dirty sand

And heal, heal, heal, heal

Take my mind

And take my pain

Like an empty bottle takes the rain

And heal, heal, heal, heal

 

And tell me some things last

 

Heal - Tom Odell

 

Waking up from a second round of anesthesia didn’t seem to be as hard as it was the first time. It wasn't the slow climb to the surface he had before– at least not for his mind. The confusion was gone, he remembered exactly where he was, why he was there.

 

The machines were still beeping away. Someone was in the room with him too, moving around quietly. A pen scribbling on a clipboard, typing on a computer. He assumed it was Gilly.

 

Before he opened his eyes, he took a minute to assess what was causing him pain, and what wasn’t. It was pretty much all the same as before– his head, the left side of his chest, and his right leg. It was all only a dull ache though, thank God. He decided to let Gilly know he was awake before she left. He was thirsty as hell again, his throat feeling as if he'd swallowed a knot of rusty nails.

 

“Hey,” he croaked, looking toward the cluster of monitors and machines by his bed. Instead of Gilly, it was Margaery he found. He liked her too. He had a few faint memories left of his mom–kind, soft, could always make him laugh–that's who Margaery made him think of.

 

“Well, hello there, handsome. I’m sure glad to see you awake again,” she said smiling brightly. “Not so bad this time, huh?”

 

“Hi, Margaery,” he tried, a bit louder, giving her a thumbs up. It sounded like that dying frog was back in his throat.

 

“You want some ice chips?”

 

He waved his thumb at her again while attempting to make an excited expression. She laughed as she turned around and grabbed the thermos and a spoon from his tray table. He was sighing in relief a few seconds later, the ice hitting his tongue and slipping down his parched throat.

 

Apparently they poured sand down people's throats when they knocked them out– sand from a litter box by the way his mouth tasted. It was nasty as hell. He’d give his left nut to have some mouthwash.

 

She spooned in a few more, and he finally got some relief from the horrible thirst and taste. “Thank you,” he told her, able to talk mostly normal again.

 

“You’re welcome, hon. How’s your pain doing?”

 

“It’s not bad. Not great, but not bad.”

 

“Okay, I may bump up the amount. We’ve got you on a morphine pump now. You should be good for quite a while. We need to find just the right dose for you. Not so much to keep you knocked out all the time, but enough that you’re not hurting either. So, you let me know the second it’s not enough, okay?”

 

“Gotcha,” he whispered. He hadn’t looked down at his leg yet, unsure he wanted to, especially with the way it was throbbing. Margaery would probably be a better judge than him anyway. “How bad does my leg look? I wanna be better prepared this time before I look down there,” he said, attempting to laugh off his nerves.

 

She smiled at him. “It’s looking much better than the last time I saw it. You might think Doctor Luwin was trying to turn you into a robot though. He told you he was gonna use rods and pins, right?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Well, some of them are inside your leg, and some are on the outside, too. Four pins and a rod to be exact, and there’s quite a few staples where he patched you up from the bullet wound, as well as the surgery itself. Then there’s some swelling and bruising. We’ve got you hanging from the ceiling again, but I’m sure you can tell that already. Even with all of that, it still looks better, I promise.” She smiled again, rubbed his arm.

 

He gave her a grin, doing his best to make it believable, then sucked it up and looked down at the damage.

 

_Shit. That was… freaky._

 

He appeared to be part cyborg now– a cyborg that had been in a bad fight and lost. From the looks of it, his leg was being held together with staples, screws, and a rod. It was straight again, and not nearly as bloody, thank God. The swelling was down a bit from before, too. There were two screws about two inches apart right below his knee, and two more above his ankle, spaced the same way. The rod was stretched between them.

 

It was more than a little unsettling to see screws coming out of your leg. It looked as if they literally screwed them straight through his skin and into the bone. He could tell because the skin was twisted a tiny bit around each one.

 

_Thank God, they knocked his ass out before they did that._

 

He resembled Frankenstein’s monster there were so many staples holding his skin together. There had to be at least thirty in the long line between his knee and ankle. There was a Y-shaped cluster over that, with that many, or more. He guessed that was where the bullet came out and assumed there were more where it went into his calf, but he wasn’t moving his leg to find out.

 

He looked up at Margaery. “That’s a mess, isn’t it?”

 

She smirked. “A bit.”

 

“At least I don’t want to puke when I look at it now. It was a close call before,” he told her.

 

She shook her head, eyes wide. “Oh, no, we don’t want any puking. You’d pull every stitch you have, and wind up back in surgery."

 

As bad as it looked, and as long as his recovery was bound to be, at least he still had a leg. He swallowed down the knot in his throat, a restless sort of relief making his chest so tight it hurt to breathe. He grabbed Margaery's hand. “Thank you, for calling him," he said, the words coming out a bit strangled. He swallowed again. "I might've lost it if you hadn’t."

 

She squeezed his hand and gave him a soft smile. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad he made it back in time.”

 

“You and me both.” He sighed and let himself sink back into the bed. “Is he gonna come talk to me about it and my recovery time? I don’t have a clue how to take care of that,” he grumbled, waving at his leg. “How am I supposed to take a shower with it like this?”

 

She turned back to the computer and started typing. “Both of your doctors are coming by soon to go over everything with you, so don’t worry about that. If you want anyone in here with you to hear it all, let me know." She stopped her typing and looked over at him. "As for showers, you're not gonna be taking any of those any time soon. It’s sponge baths for you for the next couple weeks at least,” she said, grinning even bigger at him.

 

 _“Sponge baths?”_ All he could picture was SpongeBob. The morphine was still making it hard to think straight, apparently.

 

Her grin turned into a bright smile as she nodded. “Yep. Someone’s gonna have to wash you with a sponge."

 

It took a second for his brain to catch up to what was being suggested.

 

_She needed to hold up a minute._

 

He liked her and all, but he didn’t want her giving him a bath. That’d be too much, almost like his mom giving him one, and she quit doing that when he was five. Even Gilly would be pushing it. She was so young, he’d feel like a perv. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have any feelings for her, if she started soaping his cock up he was not gonna be able to make it behave.

 

_Nope, we’re not going there._

 

“Uh, is there any chance I can give those to myself?”

 

Margaery laughed. “You can’t move around enough yet to reach everything, hon. You’re gonna need some help.”

 

With that his addled mind decided to make a list of viable bath givers.

 

There was Arya. _No way in hell was that happening._ Not that she would, even if he asked her. She didn’t do domestic _. Robb?_ No, they were not doing that either. Same went for Gendry. That left… _Dany_.

 

He might be laid up in bed, hardly able to move, and not in his right mind, not to mention in a lot of pain, but his cock wanted to twitch just thinking about her wet soapy hands rubbing all over him. Two seconds of that, and she’d have no doubt about what he was feeling.

 

He’d have to think about dead puppies and naked grandmas or something to keep from scaring her off. He couldn't disrespect her that way, he’d be no better than that ass wipe that shot him. He'd only known her two days, but could already tell she wasn't a one-night stand kind of girl. He didn’t want her to be either.

 

_We don’t?_

 

_Shut up, junior._

 

_Why was he talking to his dick?_

 

_Better yet, why was his dick talking back?_

 

_Shit, was he wasted?_

 

He cut his eyes back over to Margaery. She was still smiling at him. “Did you… giv mee… moor?” he asked, furrowing his brows enough to make his head hurt.

 

_Why couldn't he talk right?_

 

She laughed, loud. “More what, hon?”

 

“Mora. Mor…fien,” he slurred again.

 

“I did. Gave you too much, huh?” she asked, still laughing.

 

He giggled– _yes, giggled_ –and pinched his fingers together at his eye. “Lil…bit.” She laughed even harder, and he couldn’t help but laugh too, until his body let him know that was a really stupid idea. “Aaahhhhhh. No… laf… ing,” he begged, still doing it despite the pain.

 

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Shhhhh, calm down, and breathe slowly for me,” she said as she gently rubbed his shoulder. Jon did his best to relax, and think about something that wasn’t funny. More dead puppies did the trick. She smiled down at him. “We won’t laugh anymore, okay, but you need to quit being adorable."

 

“Sorreee. I can’t help bein’ cute.” He half winked, half grimaced at her.

 

“You are a mess, Jon Snow, but remember I control your pain meds,” she said, trying to look stern. Her smirk ruined it.

 

“I’ll beee good,” he promised with the straightest face he could manage.

 

“All right, I’ll turn the pump down a notch, so you won’t be so loopy. Your docs should be here soon. You want me to go get your family?”

 

“Pleeease?”

 

“Okay, we’ll be right back. You rest a minute.” She was chuckling as she headed out the door.

 

He didn't rest long at all before they all came filing in. He gave them a wave. “Hey guys!” Apparently he said it too loud, or with a goofy voice because they all laughed at him.

 

“You feeling good bro?” Robb asked.

 

“Oooh, yeah. Margaery gave me too much juice. At least I can talk better now. I sounded reeeeally drunk a minute ago,” he told him.

 

“You still do,” Arya deadpanned.

 

He huffed. “Thanks, sis."

 

They spent the next few minutes asking him how he was and telling him what went on while he'd been gone. Gendry had taken Dany over to his house when he went to check on Ghost for him. She seemed to have really liked his place, and Ghost, by the way she was smiling. He wasn't sure why talking about it made her blush, but he liked seeing it on her beautiful face. He wished he'd been the one to take her, he would’ve loved to see her reaction to Ghost and his work, too, but at least he knew she liked everything she did see.

 

A knock on his door interrupted them and Dr. Luwin walked in quietly. Robb and Dany moved to the end of the bed to make room for him. He gave Jon a small smile and a nod. “Mr. Snow. It's good to see you awake again. I’m here to go over the surgery with you if that is all right?” he asked kindly.

 

“I’d appreciate it, thank you.”

 

The surgeon nodded again, and walked over to the light box hanging on the wall across from him and stuck up two x-rays. Robb and Dany had to squeeze over to stand with Arya and Gendry so they could see.

 

The x-rays were before and after surgery. The first clearly showed how bad the damage was, a scattering of bone fragments within a distorted limb. It literally looked like a bomb had gone off inside his leg. The second made him look even more cyborg-ish. There was more metal than bone as far as he could tell. He glanced over at his cheerleaders. They were all wincing.

 

“There was extensive damage to your tibia,” Dr. Luwin began. “Close to four inches of it was completely shattered,” he said pointing to the first, then moved over to the next. “These two gaps here are where I cut the bone off smoothly. I used those pieces to add into the middle along with the fragments I saved. This will give the bone two smaller spaces to fill in instead of one long one. I hope with time the bone will repair itself, filling in these gaps.”

 

_He cut his bone. In two places. Sawed it off in two places._

 

All Jon could imagine was a scene from some horror movie with the high-pitched whine of a saw and screams of terror filling the air.

 

There was suddenly a boulder on his chest, sweat beading over his face. His stomach churned dangerously.

 

Dany appeared at his side, one hand taking his, the other running through his hair. She leaned down close to his ear. “That part’s over. You don’t have to do it again, okay?" she whispered. "Just look at me and breathe.” Her eyes were so blue and beautiful, Jon couldn't help but stare back. There was no pity in them, only understanding. As he let himself breathe with her, a soft smile reached them, turning them shiny and bright. As quick as his anxiety started, it was gone just as fast– thanks to her.

 

He pulled her hand up to his lips and pressed her knuckles to them, never taking his eyes off hers. He whispered a 'thank you' against her skin and she squeezed his hand in return. Keeping a tight grip on her, he nodded back at the doctor to continue.

 

Doctor Luwin returned it and pointed at the second x-ray again. “The plates, rod, and screws I placed inside will give you the support and strength your leg will need from now on– along with your fibula, miraculously it escaped damage. The hardware can be there permanently, or removed in several years if it begin to give you trouble. The rod on the outside will be removed after a month or two. You should be able to put small amounts of weight on it in a few days.

 

“If this was your only injury I would have you walking on crutches tomorrow, but your body needs to heal from your other surgeries first. So, you’ll either need to be in bed, or a wheelchair for a while. The rest of you needs to be strong, so your leg doesn’t have to take all of your weight. I’m sure you'll want to push things, and get back to normal as soon as possible, but remember, you need to give yourself time to heal first. I understand that'll be difficult, but if you push too hard you'll be back here and in worse shape. We don’t want you to have to recover from more surgery,” he warned him.

 

“No, sir, we do not,” Jon wholeheartedly agreed with him.

 

“I removed all the infection I could find, which thankfully wasn't much. There was also some muscle that needed stitching back together, but it should heal quickly. I want you to stay on antibiotics for at least a month to avoid any more infection. You need them for your other injuries as well, so that won't be an issue.

 

“In a week, we'll see where you are, and hopefully begin physical therapy. Slowly at first. I’m afraid there will be pain over the next several months. I'll make sure you have pain medication for it, but if it's severe, I need to know straight away. The same goes for any fever, redness, or swelling anywhere on your leg,” he stressed.

 

“We’ll keep a very close eye on it,” Dany assured him.

 

He smiled at her. “Good. Do any of you have any questions?” he asked, looking at each of them in turn.

 

“You said the rod and screws inside his leg could be removed if they gave him problems later," Arya cut in. "Why would they cause problems? Why put them in if they could? Are they not inside his bone? Wouldn’t that be another painful surgery to heal from again?” she fired questions at him, worry and agitation clear in her voice. Jon could tell she’d get worked up quick if the doctor didn’t have a good answers for her.

 

“We usually don’t have to remove them unless the patient is a very active, athletic person. They put much more weight and stress on their bones, which can cause them to move and rub against the metal. The surgery to remove them can also be as painful as this one, with a recovery almost as long. We had no choice but to place them though. He would've been at great risk of losing his leg at the worst, and at the least, never walk correctly or without pain again. This was the best option available for this injury. With time, care, and physical therapy I believe he can gain back almost complete use of his leg, barring any other problems,” he told her calmly.

 

Arya crossed her arms over her chest, her expression growing darker. “Almost complete use? What other problems?”

 

Dr. Luwin stayed composed despite her irritation. “If he doesn't develop any more infection, compartment syndrome, or re-injure the leg he should get back ninety to ninety-five percent use with little to no pain,” he told her, then turned to Jon. “You understand this was not a simple fracture, and the severity of your injury I believe. Yes?”

 

“Yes, sir, I do. But she didn’t, I don’t think, and she worries about me quite a bit.” He cut Arya a loving glare, then looked back at the doctor. “I really appreciate you taking care of me and getting back here so quick to do the surgery. I owe you a lot.”

 

“I am glad I was able to help, and I will continue to. We'll be doing x-rays every few days to see how things are progressing, and keep a very close eye out for infection, too. I hope there will be no need to go back in for any more surgery.”

 

Doctor Luwin stayed a few minutes longer, answering a couple more questions from Robb before slipping out as Jon's other surgeon came in to check on him. Jon peppered him with questions while the doctor checked his incisions, the drain tube, and studied his chart on the computer.

 

Jon learned something he had no wish to contemplate. He had indeed nearly died, in fact his heart had actually stopped for a few minutes during his first surgery. By everyone's reactions, that was news to them as well. All of them had gone as pale as Ghost, Dany cried, even Arya had a few tears trailing down her cheeks. He could only lay there, dazed and detached, as if he was hearing a story about some stranger.

 

They continued to talk around him, but nothing made sense, their voices gathering into one droning mumble inside his aching skull.

 

Soon that was all there was. Pain.

 

Dany's face came into focus above him, her brow furrowed, blue eyes wide and worried. “Margaery, he’s hurting. Can you do something?”

 

He felt around for her hand, latching on the moment his fingers brushed hers. “I'm okay."

 

“Mmm hmm, that’s enough excitement for you, sir. Time to rest,” Margaery fussed, going over to his morphine pump, and pushing a button or two.

 

“You get some sleep, big brother. We’ll be here when you wake up,” Arya said quietly, somewhere near the foot of his bed.

 

“I will," he answered, his gaze fixated on Dany. He couldn't seem to look away, didn't want to either. All the bad faded away when he stared into those ocean eyes.

 

Robb and Gendry told him bye, too, before following Arya out, but Dany couldn't, he was still holding onto her hand.

 

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you when you wake up, okay?" she told him softly. "Remember what the doctors said, you have to take things easy."

 

“I promise I'll rest,” he mumbled.

 

Her smile was sweeter than he deserved. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re amazing. I hope you know that,” he whispered, his eyelids growing too heavy to fight. He felt her soft lips press against his cheekbone.

 

“So are you. So are you."


	9. Trapped between this life and the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mondays are never good days. Dany dreams pleasant things. And Ned visits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you all so much for the lovely response to last week's chapter! I think it's safe to say everyone adored our sweet bean Jonno high off his ass :D And everyone is Keen for a sponge bath to happen too, lol. There will be some bathing done, several times in fact, but not for a few more chapters yet. I want them to have some privacy ;) 
> 
> I hope to update again next Monday, but I may need to stretch it out a bit until JonerysWeek is over. Ash and I are working on a new S6 canon AU for it and I want to finish Slipping Away as well. Regardless, fics and updates are coming! 
> 
> Huge thanks again to Ashley and Jalenmara for all the help with this chapter. Couldn't do this without them! Love you ladies!!!

 

 

 

 

Can you help me out

Can you lend me a hand

It's safe to say

That I'm stuck again

Trapped between this life

And the light

I just can't figure out

How to make it right

A thousand times before

I've wondered if there's something more

Something more

I feel it's gonna rain like this for days

So let it rain down and wash everything away

I hope that tomorrow the sun will shine

With every tomorrow comes another life

I feel it's gonna rain

For days and days

I feel it's gonna rain

I've tried to figure out

I can't understand

What it means

To be whole again

Trapped between the truth

And the consequence

Nothing's real

Nothing's making sense

A thousand times before

I've wondered if there's something more

Something more

I feel it's gonna rain like this for days

So let it rain down and wash everything away

I hope that tomorrow the sun will shine

I feel it's gonna rain like this, rain like this, rain like this

Fall down

Wash away my yesterdays

Fall down

So let the rain fall down on me

 

**Rain - Creed**

  
  
  
  


Monday came and time seemed to slow with it.

 

She and Arya kept Jon company between his naps, both of them dozing off themselves from time to time. It was unreal how tired a body could get with nothing to do and forced to sit in uncomfortable chairs for hours on end.

 

Robb had to go back to work, being the boss didn't always get you free time. Apparently a third of his crew decided not to show that morning. As for Gendry, he was making himself scarce. It was obvious to Dany, Arya's cold shoulder was to blame, but he put it off on spring break plans he'd made weeks before. He called though, even had a snack basket delivered, full of Jon's favorites. Beef jerky, cheese and crackers, a dozen bags of Cheetos, and Gummi Bears. He ate half the bag, picking out the clear ones first, the others all shoved in together by the handful and promptly devoured. He grumbled though. They weren't cold. He liked them cold.

 

Another nugget for her to squirrel away in a secret corner of herself marked _Jon._

 

A new doctor was added to his care. Brienne Tarth. She wasn't a surgeon, but specialized in trauma patients and their recovery. She came in just after lunch to go over what Jon could expect during the coming weeks. Her bedside manner was stoic, but kind.

 

Dany knew her type, had answered much the same questions over the past two years that she asked of Jon. And like him, she'd pulled into herself, giving answers with the fewest words, eyes averted. The relieved sigh he gave once they stopped was the same as well.

 

It was too soon, he wasn't ready to talk.

 

His leg was doing well though. As good as Doctor Luwin had hoped– no more signs of infection so far. But he was fighting them on keeping his morphine pump set high enough to stop the pain– the stubborn mule. He hated being asleep or high ninety-five percent of the time, which no one could blame him for, but Dany hated to see him suffer, especially since she knew they could stop it.

 

She was properly exhausted by the time Robb stopped by after work, sneaking in some barbecue for all of them. Including Margaery. Said payment for the sneaking. Jon only picked at his while they talked, falling asleep sometime during Robb's fussing about permits and deadlines.

 

He stayed out a while, long enough Robb and Arya were gathering their things to go home for the night.  Arya went to drop her phone in her bag and missed. It smacked the tray table first then fell to the floor, bouncing twice. It was loud enough Dany jumped even though she watched it happen.

 

Jon startled awake, eyeing them all blearily.

 

"Sorry, bro," Arya winced with a hiss.

 

He shook his head and wiped at his eyes. "Robb, help me to the bathroom," he groaned.

 

The three of them froze and looked at each other for a long second, none of them wanting the job of helping him realize he still had a catheter in.

 

Dany guessed he either couldn’t feel it, or had been too high to care before now to think about it. Getting him up and to the bathroom hadn't been an option, so he had to have one.

 

Arya bit the bullet. “Jon, just piss like you’ve been doing since you got here, okay? The catheter is still stuck in your monster.”

 

Soooo not how she would've handled it, but to each their own.

 

Jon's face screwed up in confusion before he snatched the sheet up to see for himself. Since she was standing by the head of his bed she almost saw his ‘monster’. She quickly checked out the ceiling tiles while her face flamed red, but Jon’s voice booming from beside her interrupted her embarrassment.

 

“You fucking let them stick a tube up my dick!”

 

“They didn’t ask me, Jon," Arya grumbled. "It’s not like you can jump up to go take a piss. What did you think? That your bladder had magically increased in size? You haven't been out of that bed in days."

 

He strained upright as far as his body would let him, snarling at her. “Fuck you, Arya!”

 

Dany reached out and put a gentle hand on his arm. "Jon, please don't get upset," she asked softly, hoping to soothe him. "I’m sure they can take it out if you want."

 

He jerked away from her as if she'd burned him, his glare fierce. “Quit fucking treating me like a damn baby. I’m a grown ass man, for fuck’s sake! Not your charity case. What the fuck are you doing here anyway? We don't fucking know you. Get out!"

 

He may as well have slapped her. She was frozen at first, startled, then stumbled back, the shock of pain that pierced her heart way too much to keep her feet. She knew it was probably the medicine– Margaery had told her some people get mean on it after a while. But it still made her chest ache enough it was hard to breathe. She backed away to give him some space. And herself.

 

Robb stepped in just as Margaery came running into the room. “Jon, that’s enough. You need to calm your ass down. They don’t deserve you yelling and cussing at them.”

 

"What's going on in here?" Margaery asked, cutting her eyes at all of them in turn. "Do I need to send everyone home?"

 

Jon ignored her completely and pointed an accusing finger at Robb. “Fuck you, too! None of you are stuck in this damn bed with all kinds of tubes coming out of you! And you’re not in fucking pain either. Just… get out… all of you… get…”    

 

He was out cold all of a sudden, and if Margaery hadn’t gotten Dany's attention by touching her arm, she would’ve been terrified something was terribly wrong.

 

“I knocked him out. There's no need to let him keep on and hurt himself. I’m sorry y’all had to see him that way. It’s the morphine, it will mess with your head and emotions. He probably won’t even remember it happened when he wakes up,” she told them as she rubbed Dany's arm.

 

She left for home half an hour later, Arya insisting she go after she couldn't hide how rattled she was. Robb offered to walk her out to her truck and she accepted, but neither of them said a word all the way to the parking lot.

 

Once they reached her truck she could feel him hovering, nearly tightening her already thin nerves to the breaking point. She looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a strained smile. She needed him to go before she lost it. "Goodni—"

 

"You know that wasn’t Jon, right?" he blurted out. "I've never seen him act that way. Not around people he cares about. Not even when he drinks." He chuffed and shook his head. "He usually winds up crying when he's drunk. It had to be the drugs, like Margaery said. He didn't mean it, Dany."

 

The worry etched all over his face had her taking pity on him. She took a deep breath and turned around. "I know, I promise. I'm just… I need to go home and rest, maybe call my friends back home. But I'll be back in the morning first thing."

 

_Don't ask if I'm okay. Please don't._

 

He blew out a breath, relieved she thought, but still didn’t look as if he really believed her. He let her go with a goodnight and a wave anyway. "Be careful. See you tomorrow."

 

Somehow she found her way home in the dark, the short drive a blur to her frazzled mind. She went straight to the shower when she got inside, turned the water on and stipped down. She sat in the bottom of the tub, hoping the cold water would snap her out of the panic while it washed away her tears.

 

She didn't know what in the world she was doing staying around Jon and his little family. She wasn’t one of them. She owed him a debt, a huge one, but surely there was another way to pay him back. She could write a check to cover all of his medical bills and insurance, or pay to have a nurse move in with him until he was better. She could leave it with Arya and slip out. Just get on a plane and go back home, or finally end it all with the bottle of pills still on the nightstand. Jon didn’t need her, and he certainly didn’t deserve to have some crazy woman taking care of him.

 

_What if his fit of anger was how he truly felt about her? What if he was pretending to like her or high off the morphine when he said he wanted her to stay? What if she was sticking around for nothing? What if he blamed her for it all, just as she did?_

 

The more questions she asked, the closer she got to another attack. She scrambled out of the tub, shaking and shivering, and wrapped herself up in a towel then went to find her phone. She needed Tyrion right then as much as she ever had.

 

“Dany, dear, how are you?” his soothing voice answered.

 

“I need help… I need…” she couldn’t finish through her gasping.

 

Tyrion immediately went into therapist mode. “Listen to my voice, Dany. We’re going to breathe together. In– one, two, three, four…”    

 

It took a good ten minutes to get her calmed down, but he finally did. She spent the next twenty telling him everything that had happened over the last few days. He was shocked, to say the least.

 

“I’m going to wrap you in a bubble and never let you out of my sight again.”

 

“I’m cursed, Tyrion. I’ve been telling you that for ages. Maybe now you believe me,” she sighed, defeat weighing her down so completely she feared she'd never climb out from beneath it.

 

“And I’ve told you repeatedly you are not, and I still believe that,” he replied in his stern father's voice. She loved and hated that voice. “I don’t know why you had to meet Jon in such a horribly dramatic way, but I’m glad you met him."

 

“Why?”

 

“Remember when I told you that life will always find a way to grow? That flowers and trees will push up through the cracks, that their roots will be the strongest because of the adversity they faced surviving what they shouldn't have?”

 

“Yes,” she answered quietly, her stomach starting to twist and flutter.

 

“Your shoots are starting to grow. Your trees are twisting their roots deep to feed from the strength you have inside of you. They’ve been hiding in the cracks and scars, waiting until the rain finally came. Now that it has, they're ready to grow and thrive,” he said, his voice growing more melodic with each word.

 

“Tyrion, you’re speaking in riddles. I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”

 

“The flowers and the trees are the life still left inside of you, Dany. That life has never left you, it’s always been there waiting on you to be ready again, and for the rain to come around. Waiting for the hope it needs to grow. You're the soil, the heart that life resides in. I think this Jon Snow is the rain, the hope that could let you live again.”

 

She couldn’t find the words to respond inside the swirl of emotions she was feeling. Gendry's voice was loud and clear within her head though as she paced her room. _"He's more like the gentle rain…"_

 

“I can hear it in your voice when you talk about him,” Tyrion went on, breaking her out of her haze. “Something I’ve never heard from you before, something I was afraid I never would. It’s hope. You have hope again, my dear. I think Jon is that hope, or at least a spark of it, and when you have hope you also have the desire to live. You cannot have one without the other.”

 

She quit her pacing and let herself drop down on the end of the bed. Her reflection stared back at her from the dresser mirror– naked, hair wet, eyes swollen and red-rimmed. She didn't look very hopeful.

 

“So, you think I should stay?” she asked.

 

"Strictly as your friend, absolutely, I do,” he said. “It may not be easy, but why would you walk away when you have another chance? You are strong and brave, Dany. I know you don’t see it, but you are. Don’t give up now, please,” he begged. “Call Missandei and Grey. Ask them what they think. I promise you they will say the same.”

 

"And as a therapist?" She had to ask. Needed to know.

 

He sighed. "I hoped you wouldn't ask that."

 

"I know you, too."

 

"Yes, you do." He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. His throat clicked. He really didn't want to tell her. No doubt he was twisting his mouth up, his brow heavy over his shrewd eyes, fingers probably tapping on the arm of his chair.

 

"Tyrion."

 

" _Alright_ ," he grumbled. "Stay, please, but… be mindful."

 

"Of what?"

 

"You and Jon Snow…  Quite the catchy name he has by the way."

 

"You're stalling, Tyrion."

 

He huffed. "The two of you will always have a bond, what you went through together ensures that, but—"

 

"You're about to tell me nothing more can come from it."

 

"No. I am not," he was quick to correct her. He sighed again. "Your first, and only love was…"

 

_A joke? Blinded by fear…._

 

"You can say it. I won't fall apart."

 

"It wasn't as healthy as it should have been," he mumbled.

 

She snorted. "That's a nice way to put it."

 

"Yes, well."

 

"Jon isn't like that, Tyrion."

 

"I am certainly inclined to believe that considering he saved your life at such great risk to his own. I'm more concerned that you do not repeat the past. If your heart falls for him, be sure it is for the _right_ reasons."

 

The truth stung, it always did, but she knew he was right. She'd clung to the first buoy she could find within a stormy sea once before, she would need to make sure the next one was not as false as the first.

 

"That said, you have another chance at life, Dany," he added softly. "Don’t let it slip through your fingers.”

 

"I'll try not to."

 

After a promise she would call again soon, they said goodnight. It was ten thirty by then, but she knew Missandei would still be up. She got lucky and caught them at home, putting the phone on speaker so they could all talk.

 

She went through her last few days with them, too, and got lots of loud– ‘no's!?’, ‘holy shits!’, and ‘you’re kidding me’s?’– during her story, much to her amusement. She had really needed their antics that night. She went to sleep feeling lighter than she had in days, her mind wandering to warm chestnut eyes and thick raven curls that felt like silk between her fingers. A full mouth with the sweetest of smiles upon it.

 

*~*

 

_The pleasing smells of breakfast pulled her down the stairs on bare feet. Coffee, bacon, and toast if her nose was any judge. She wandered into the kitchen, stomach rumbling, only to stop in her tracks at the sight of him. He was standing at the stove, flipping bacon if she were to guess, in nothing but boxer briefs– black, and clinging like a second skin to his magnificent ass and thighs._

 

_The morning sun was streaming bright through the windows, across the floor and onto his pale skin, highlighting every dip and curve of muscle. Even his inky curls caught the light, shining like onyx. How one man could be so beautiful..._

 

_The sight of him had a flush of heat spreading through her. She looked down to gather herself and was surprised to see she was only wearing a white t-shirt and nothing else. His white t-shirt. It brushed softly against her naked skin as she stepped forward, the movement sending up a hint of his cologne to tease her senses further, almost as if Jon himself was wrapped around her._

 

_With quiet feet she slipped up behind him, sliding her hands around his narrow waist and up his rippled stomach, gentle and slow. He jumped, quick to grab her tickling fingers and still them._

 

_"It's not nice to tease the cook," he chuckled, pulling one of her hands to his plush mouth and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He let her go and went back to their breakfast, a twinkling glance cast over his shoulder at her. "You don't want your bacon burned do you?"_

 

_She hummed, placing slow kisses across his sculpted shoulders, her hands back to exploring his abs and chest. "Maybe, if it means I can have the cook for second breakfast," she whispered, her fingertips circling his nipples. She pinched._

 

_His groan was more felt than heard, his head falling back and a hand reaching to palm her ass, pulling her tight against him._

 

_She ran her nose up the groove of his spine, kissing each vertebra as she went. His skin was warm, his smell intoxicating. Her hands explored further, down his sides to his slim hips, fingers tracing the top half of the deep V her tongue longed to taste, then lower still, beneath his briefs._

 

_The scrape of the skillet sliding across the stove eyes broke the tense silence and Jon spun around a breath later, grabbing her up, her ass gripped in each hand._

 

_She gasped despite pushing him to act as he walked them to the island behind her and sat her down, stepping between her spread thighs. The cold granite a shock compared to his hot skin now pressed to hers._

 

_"Did I not satisfy you enough last night?" he growled against her lips, taking her mouth in a heated, messy kiss, tongue delving deep to find hers._

 

_A mewling whimper left her as she kissed him back, wrapping her thighs around his waist, trapping his cock between them. "Yes," she answered finally with a breathy gasp as he rocked his hips, slowly grinding the hard ridge against her already aching center. "But I want more," she demanded, hands fisting in his hair, pulling and biting at his lush mouth. Jon growled, his own hands running up her back, beneath her shirt, grasping it, pulling it up and off._

 

_She was naked and he was hungry, eyes blown to black pools full of heat as they raked over her. He attacked, hands and mouth seemingly everywhere at once. Every touch and taste he took sent her spiraling further, her world shrinking to him and him alone. Smooth and straining muscles under her hands, strong ones gripping and grasping more of her flesh. Hips writhing, breath catching, the coil within her drawn tense and taut, ready to snap at any moment._

 

_A shrill beeping filled the room and she startled as if shocked. Jon tightened his grip on her. "Ignore it. Stay with me," he murmured against her breast, lips soft, beard bristling as he took a sensitive nipple into his mouth and suckled hard._

 

_Her hips bucked against him again. Much more and she would fall. Just a little… bit… more..._

 

_The beeping came again. Past annoyed, she pulled away, searching for it, seeing smoke rising from the stove._

 

_"Jon!"_

 

_"Stay with me, Dany." His words were faded whispers, touch turning ghost like, then gone._

 

 _Another alarm split the air_.

 

She woke with a start– face hot, heart racing, and places that hadn't ached in an age making themselves known.

 

The phone rang once again and she flopped back into her pillows, knowing with her luck it was probably a wrong number. Her wonderful dream ruined, a decent night's sleep over. She felt around on the bed until she found it anyway and pried her eyes open, squinting at the brightness. 3:17 a.m. _Whose number is...? Shit!_ Her heart faltered.

 

She slid her thumb across the screen and stuck the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

 

_Please, let him be okay._

 

"He's fine, before you freak out," Arya grumbled in response, "but I need you to calm him down before they have to strap him to the bed."

 

She sat up and swung her feet to the floor. "That doesn't sound like fine to me, Arya. What happened? Why is he upset?"

 

There was a lot of bumping and scruffing noises in her ear then a loud blowing breath. "He woke up and remembered everything about yelling at us," came her harsh whisper.

 

" _Shit_. You explained it was just the morphine, right?"

 

"Of course I did, but he knew you were supposed to be here and you're _not_ . He won't go back to sleep, he won't take his meds, and he's getting more upset by the minute. Talk to him, _please_."

 

"Arya, you know I will. Give him the phone."

 

More scrubbing and bumping sounded in her ear, but the following breath she heard was unmistakably shaky and weak, and masculine. “Dany?”

 

She squeezed her eyes shut, soothed and saddened all at once, and did her best to control her own breathing so she didn't upset him more. “Hi, Jon."

 

“Hey," he breathed. "Are uh… are you okay?"

 

"Mmm hmmm," she hummed then shook herself. He'd need more than that to ease his nerves. "I'm fine. Everything's okay with me," she said lightly. "What about you?"

 

"I’m okay,” he mumbled.

 

"Are you sure? If you aren't, you can tell me," she gently prodded.

 

He was quiet for several long seconds, then took another deep breath. “Arya told me I upset you, and made you leave.”    

 

_Son of a bitch._

 

She was going to strangle her the second she got close enough. _Why in the hell she would tell him that?_

 

She shook her head, not that he could see it. “Jon, no. I don't know why she told you that. I didn’t leave because of anything you did, I only came home to rest. I promise that’s all it was,” she tried to assure him.

 

Most of it was true.

 

“But still, I yelled shitty things at you. Jerked my arm away. I didn't mean any of it, Dany, I swear it. What I said, what I did, none of it,” he pleaded, the words leaving his throat blistered and broken.

 

Arya was number one on her shit list right then.

 

“It's alright, Jon. I promise," she told him, keeping her voice gentle and soothing. "I know you didn’t mean it. And I'm not upset with you. We all knew the morphine was doing it. I don’t blame you, okay?"

 

"But you were supposed to stay tonight and you didn't."

 

_Damnit. Why did he have to remember that? Any of it?_

 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there like I said I would be," she told him, sheets fisted in her hand to fight the wave of guilt threatening to swallow her.

 

_Always in the wrong place at the wrong time, never where she should be, when she should be._

 

"But, Jon, that's not your fault, alright? It was mine. I was just more tired than I thought, but I promise I didn’t leave for good. I’m coming back. My alarm’s set for six, so I can get back up there early.”

 

“You don't have to get—"

 

“I want to.”

 

A heavy breath rushed from him. “You're sure?" he asked, wary, yet hopeful.

 

She flexed her hand, let loose of the sheets. “Yeah. I'm sure. I could go ahead and come back now? If you want me to,” she offered. She shouldn’t have, but he sounded so pitiful she couldn’t help herself. She'd examine her own want to rush to his side later. Or not.

 

He was quiet for a moment. She heard him scratch at his beard, draw in a breath to speak only to hesitate. “No," he finally sighed, "it’s okay. You need to rest. I’m sorry I woke you up. I should've waited until you got back, but I… I needed you to know.”

 

Something queer happened to her heart then, a quivering sort of flip that nearly made her whimper. She took a quick breath instead. “There was nothing to apologize for, but I appreciate you wanting to,” she told him softly.

 

He fell silent again, their breathing oddly falling in sync. She laid back down and settled into her pillow, letting the rhythm soothe her. Hoped it was doing the same for him.

 

“I should let you get back to sleep," he murmured after a bit, his voice gone deeper, rough. His meds were pulling him under.

 

"You need sleep too."

 

"Yeah."

 

He wouldn't say it first, she knew. “Goodnight, Jon. I’ll see you soon,” she whispered.

 

“Goodnight, Dany. Sweet dreams,” he breathed back, and the phone went dead.

 

She gathered the sheets up around her neck, the phone clutched to her chest as she turned her face into her pillow, and cried herself to sleep.

 

_*~*_

 

The rest of the week went much smoother for all of them after that. Jon insisted they cut back on his morphine and they’d kept things as light and happy as possible, avoiding anything that put a damper on his mood. Because of that, she still hadn’t told him her story. She would catch him looking at her with concern sometimes, but he hadn’t asked her about her past. She guessed they'd wait until they got him settled at his house. It wasn't set in stone yet, but it looked like she might be going with him.

 

It was all Robb’s idea, but he neglected to run it by her before he brought it up in front of Jon Tuesday night. They'd been talking about what he would need once he got out– a hospital bed, wheelchair, a home nurse and such. Then Robb opened his big mouth. _“You’ve already got you a great nurse. Dany can just go home with you.”_

 

She almost panicked and ran right then and there, but Jon turned those big, brown puppy-dog eyes on her, and she couldn’t tell him no. She sputtered out a ‘we’ll see how it goes’ while giving him her crazy Dany smile. He hadn’t hushed about them going home since. And she hadn’t quit panicking about it.  

 

Arya was a good distraction– once they cleared the air about her upsetting Jon even more than he had been. She was still there, but her flight would leave out first thing Friday morning. She didn’t want to leave at all, but Jon was insisting she go home before she got in trouble because of him. In trouble how, Dany wasn't sure and felt too uncomfortable to ask. She knew Arya worked with computers somewhere overseas, but that was it.

 

She also knew she would miss her. Since Jon still slept most of the days away, she and Arya had had lots of time to talk, and get to know each other. She thought you could even go so far as to call them friends now despite their rocky start. She might come across prickly to some, but her ability to fire off one-liners was impressive and never failed to make Dany laugh.

 

She was a great buffer when Ned had shown up on Wednesday as well.

 

He was kind enough, every bit the Southern gentleman, but Dany couldn't help but shrink under the intense gaze of his grey eyes. It wasn't hard to guess where Robb and Arya got their cautiousness of strangers from. But the man obviously loved Jon every bit as much as his children did, if not more so. She'd had to slip out of the room before any of them could introduce her, the tears and emotions of both men too long apart and brought back together after tragedy more than her fragile heart could take.

 

Arya tracked her down not long after, where she'd fled to the vending machines and hauled her back, muttering about Jon wanting to introduce her to the man he considered his father. Smile plastered and pained, she stayed on pins and needles, awkward as a duck out of water as the other three talked and laughed until Jon fell asleep exhausted hours later. Seeing him happy had been worth every bit of her discomfort though.

 

Ned left the next day– his boss' and wife's persistent phone calls turning his pale complexion ruddy and setting the vein in his temple to throbbing– but not before he asked Dany to walk him downstairs.

 

She'd stood frozen in fear at first, then Jon had smiled encouragingly at her, silently asking her to do what he couldn't with those big soft eyes, and she'd steeled herself, following his father out.

 

"I wanted a few moments alone to thank you, Miss Targaryen," Ned had started, as they walked through the ICU doors and into the long desolate hallway that lead to the elevators.

 

"You don't owe me any thanks, Mister Stark. I'm the thankful one," she was quick to interject.

 

"Of course, but that doesn't lessen my gratitude toward you."

 

"I'm not sure I follow, sir."

 

"I've done my best by Jon, given him more of myself than I did my own children at times, according to my wife." He blew out a heavy sigh that reminded her an awful lot of Robb, and kissed his teeth. "What I'm trying to get at is… everything I gave… It wasn't enough to erase how I failed him." He shook his head, eyes on his feet. "Jon would never agree, his heart's too good for that, but I saw the light go out of his eyes when he was just a boy…"

 

Ned fell silent as they had reached the elevators, leaving Dany flighty as a spooked cat as they waited for a group of talkative nurses to file out. Once they stepped inside, alone, the door closing behind them, she tucked herself into one corner, fingers clinging painfully to the handrail behind her to keep her grounded.

 

She wasn't afraid of him, but of the truth she was sure she was about to learn. She knew without even hearing it, Jon would claim another piece of her broken heart the moment she did. The rate at which he was gathering them up for his own was terrifying.

 

Ned cleared his throat, cutting into her panic, and glanced over with a kind smile. "No matter what any of us did, that light hasn't been back for more than a fleeting moment in over ten years. If it has, I haven't seen it, until yesterday," he said, slow and soft, his eyes holding her captive, "when he introduced me to you."

 

A rush of air left her, as if his words had taken hold of her lungs and squeezed. She bit her lip, fiercely, anything to stop the swell of tears from rising. How she managed to speak, she'd never know. "Mister Stark, there's still an awful lot I don't know about Jon, and even more that he doesn't know about me, but I can promise you something… That light saved me, and I don't ever want to see it go out."

 

He nodded, a tortured smile on his face, lips pressed together tight, chin quivering. The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. He stepped forward and held the door to keep it from closing as he looked back at her. "I've heard the roughest roads sometimes lead to the most beautiful places," he told her, voice rough and cracked. "I'm inclined to believe it. Take care Miss Targaryen. I hope to see you the next time I visit."

 

She had to hide in a bathroom for half an hour before she was able to go back to Jon's room.

  
  



	10. A girl, a boy, and a graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon reflects on his shitty situation and comforts Dany as she tells him about her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update for you. Thank you all for the wonderful response to the last few updates! You are the best and I'm so happy you're loving these sweet angsty beans as much as I do <3 This chapter should be another heart-wrencher so get your tissues out, lol. Big love and hugs to Ashley for looking this one over for me, she's the best of the best!

  
  


Lucy takes the long way home

Meets me in a field of stone

She says I don't know how I'm supposed to feel

My body's cold but guts a twisted steel

And I feel like I'm some kind of Frankenstein 

Waiting for a shock to bring me back to life

But I don't wanna spend my time

Waiting for lighting to strike

Ooooohhh

 

So underneath the concrete sky

Lucy puts her hand in mine

She says life's a game we are meant to lose

Stick by me and I will stick by you

'Cause I'm like a princess in a castle high

Waiting for a kiss to bring me back to life

Ooooohhh

 

A Girl, a Boy, and a Graveyard 

Jeremy Messersmith

  
  
  
  
  


_ Eight days. _

 

He'd been stuck in fucking bed for eight fucking days, and he thought he might go insane real fucking soon.

 

_ God,  _ he sounded like Arya.

 

Eight days out of twenty-eight years was nothing, he knew that, but laying flat on your back, in pain and all but strapped to a bed for over a week– that seemed to do bad things to a person. His every nerve was raw and rioting beneath his crawling skin. Muscles aching from atrophy, bones heavy and hot, trapped within his broken body. All of it was causing his mind to slip into dark, angry places.

 

Having some movement in his right arm and left leg helped with maintaining some of his sanity, but it would feel so satisfying to rip, roar, and ravage everything in sight like some wolf let loose. If he could release some of the fury onto something he thought he might be able to relax again,  _ maybe _ .

 

_ He wanted to fucking move! He wanted out of the fucking bed! He wanted to fucking go home!  _ He'd probably scream like some spoiled rotten two-year-old if he didn’t get to soon. 

 

He hadn't felt such intense frustration and misery since his foster days.

 

Dany and Arya being around to keep his mind distracted had been godsend. They mostly watched TV, and made fun of whatever they were watching, or they'd get on some social app on their phones and show him stupid stuff to make him laugh. He’d for sure be drugged within an inch of his life, and chained down to the bed if it wasn’t for them.

 

So he'd behave, even if it killed him. Losing his shit had upset everyone, and did nothing but make him feel guilty as fuck. 

 

All he had to do was remember Dany’s face when he yelled at her Monday, and it straightened him right up. It didn’t matter that he'd been drugged, or that she forgave him. If he could help it, she’d never have that look on her face again. Not because of him.

 

Why she stuck around after that he didn’t know, he was just damn glad she had. She was going home with him when they freed him from this nightmare. She'd offered to pay for a live-in nurse if he'd rather do that, but he'd been quick to remind her, despite being half-dead and high, he remembered her promise to stay. He was gonna to hold her to it. 

 

They would try things at his place first. It was closer to the hospital, if and when he needed to go back for therapy or anything else. It would be a pain in the ass with all the stairs, but they'd make it work.

 

He was anxious to have her all to himself once they got there. They'd have plenty of time to talk, and there’d be no hiding from each other then.

 

Despite the long week spent in each other's company, they hadn’t talked about their pasts at all, a silent agreement they had seemed to come to. He had to admit, it bothered him. Not that he was in any mood to share his own sob story, nor did he want to upset her by bringing up her dead husband. It was obviously painful for her. She stayed relaxed as long as they discussed the present, but as soon as anything remotely personal came up she got anxious. He refused to upset her again, so would always change the subject. She'd relax soon after.

 

He knew she was twenty-six, a widow, and grew up in Tennessee. That was it, all he knew other than getting to know her personality over the last week, but even with that small amount of knowledge, he was drawn to her– like a moth to a flame. Of course, surviving a life or death situation with her definitely created a bond between them, but he wanted to know more. He wanted there to  _ be _ more.

 

Actually he  _ needed _ more. It was a gnawing ache that refused to leave him alone. Had been since the moment those sad, fathomless eyes had met his a week ago. He couldn't explain it. Yeah, he'd had a couple of flings, knew a pretty face when he saw one, but never had a woman dug beneath his stony walls and planted herself within them the way she had. He was falling,  _ hard _ , and fucking fast. It scared the shit out of him if he was being honest. 

 

Worry nagged at his mind and squirmed in his gut, not knowing whether the overwhelming need for more he felt was real, or just one scarred soul recognizing another.  _ Oh, you're broke just like me? Wanna be broke together? _

 

Their meeting couldn't be called anything other than traumatic. And Dany no doubt had demons, not that he didn't have a fair share of his own. Ones that had kept him an arm's length from everyone and his heart timid. He certainly had no right to hold hers against her.

 

But could something lasting be built on such shaky ground? Did you even try? Most, he was sure, would say it'd be doomed to fail. Somehow that made him angry. He'd never taken kind to being told he couldn't accomplish something. Stubborn could easily be his middle name.

 

Would that stubborn streak lead him straight to heartbreak? Make him a selfish bastard setting her up for more? 

 

He didn't have a solid answer for any of it, but despite his fears and doubts he knew he wouldn't,  _ couldn't _ , walk away from her, literally or figuratively. They were tied together by those few fateful moments that happened only nights ago. They always would be. It was a scar between them, or a shared one, each with the same mark on their heart that ached and itched, both understanding the other's affliction.

 

If it ever became more than that … well, he had to survive and get out of the hellhole he was in first. 

 

Margaery had given him hope a few hours ago that wasn't far off. He was taking his first big step as soon as she got back. It was time to have the drain tube removed from his chest and get out of ICU, they'd be transferring him to the regular surgery unit after. 

 

She promised him he'd be able to roll onto his right side once they were done. Doing that without causing any pain to his leg would be an interesting feat, but whatever it took, he was ready.

 

They'd have to knock him out to remove the tube anyway, so she said they would turn him over once they were done, wash him up, change his sheets, and move him downstairs all while he was in la-la land.

 

He'd honestly thought about asking her to put him into a coma until he was completely healed. It would be a lot less painful and humiliating.

 

As much as he disliked it, he was learning to handle the pain. The humiliation was a much harder pill to swallow.

 

First, there was the catheter and his freak out. He felt guilty for yelling, but didn’t feel an ounce for  _ why _ he yelled. Having a tube stuck in your dick was grounds for a rebellion any day of the week in his book, but no one else seemed to care. Of course, it hadn’t been their dick being violated either.

 

He wasn't sure who took it out after Margaery put him out–he wasn't sure he wanted to know–but it was gone when he woke up several hours later. His dick was still not happy with him. It hurt like a bitch to piss.

 

Then, Margaery informed him he'd been given a bath while he was out cold. At least he'd been asleep, and didn’t have to deal with that awkwardness, but he was familiar with a couple of new humiliations.

 

Pissing into a plastic container that someone else was holding,  _ and _ shitting into a bedpan, then having your ass wiped–again by someone else–both had to be the most demeaning things he'd ever experienced.

 

He. One. Hundred. Percent. Did  _ not _ recommend.

 

He didn’t care how much it hurt to manage it on his own, once he got home, there is no way in hell Dany was going to have the displeasure of wiping his ass, or holding a bucket for him to piss in.

 

_ No. Way. In. Hell. _

 

He wanted them to eventually get to know each other, hopefully intimately, but wiping asses and catching piss? That was crossing a line no one wanted to cross.

 

God bless Margaery, Gilly, and every other nurse on the planet. They were what aunt Cat would call ‘special people’. And speaking of, Margaery walked into his room, then, Dany and Arya right behind her.

 

“Hey, handsome. You ready to go night-night, and get that nasty tube gone?” she asked brightly.

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He tried to smile, but knew it was a pathetic attempt. 

 

Dany came over to him as Margaery started pushing buttons on his pain pump. She did her usual and brushed his unruly hair with her fingers while smiling softly at him. He imagined he probably looked as goofy as Ghost when he got scratches. It caused an automatic reflex in him– tight muscles relaxing, eyes closing, the air coming easier into his lungs. He relished in it. Probably too much.

 

“Hey, the day will almost be over by the time you wake up," she whispered close to his ear, her sweet voice a balm to his cranky nerves. "You’ll be clean, in a new bed, able to move better, and out of ICU.  _ And _ you get to sleep through all of it, so that’ll be most of one day you won't have to deal with."

 

He pulled his heavy eyelids back open and stared at her. “One day closer to us going home.” 

 

Tears formed in her eyes as she smiled at him, but he was going under so fast he couldn’t do a thing about it except squeeze her hand.

  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  


It took him a second to get his bearings when he woke up, but he remembered he was supposed to be somewhere new, and he could tell he was. Just as Margaery had promised, he was on his side. He still felt sore and achy, but wanted to shout he was so relieved not to be on his back anymore. He laid there with his eyes closed, and just enjoyed it for a few minutes.

 

It sounded different there than the ICU had. There was less beeping inside his room, but more noises coming from the hallway. Lots of voices, carts being pushed, phones and buzzers going off.

 

His usual trio of cheerleaders were talking quietly not too far from him. Sounded like they were discussing taking him home.

 

“I wish he had an elevator, that would make things so much easier for him,” Dany mumbled.

 

“It’s not exactly an elevator, but I found a place in Jacksonville that will come in and put one of those electric chairs on the staircase so he won’t have to try to walk up and down them," Robb said. "It’d be as good as a real elevator without tearing the house up, too much."

 

“That might work  _ if _ we can talk him into it,” Arya sighed. “He’d shit a brick if they did any damage to his woodwork though. He loves that staircase. But he’s gonna need, and want, to go upstairs at some point. I’m sure he’d sleep much better in his own bed instead of on the couch or a hospital bed downstairs. There’s nowhere for him to shower downstairs, either. Of course, Dany could give him sponge baths while he sleeps, just like the nurses do," she said, teasingly.

 

_ Dany give him a sponge bath? No way he'd fucking sleep through that. _

 

He kept playing possum hoping to hear more. Dany hadn’t said a word and Arya was laughing. He could only imagine what kind of look Dany was giving her.

 

“Arya, stop teasing her,” Robb scolded, but chuckled right along with her.

 

“But look how red her face is. I think it’s safe to say she’s already thought about it,” Arya kept on.

 

“I'm sure Jon has,” Robb muttered under his breath.

 

“Y'all can kiss my ass,” Dany hissed. “There will be no baths without him knowing first. That would be like raping him,” she whispered.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dany. You’re being ridiculous. That's nowhere close to raping him,” Arya grumbled, tone bored.

 

“Maybe not, but can we  _ please _ change the subject now?” Dany asked.

 

“All right, how about we talk about the fact you haven’t told him everything yet?” 

 

“Why are you all the sudden on my back today, Arya?” Dany hissed again. “I told you I’m waiting until it’s only the two of us, and he’s feeling better. He’s had the shittiest week ever and I don’t mean to make it worse by giving him something else to worry about. Can’t you see how down he’s getting? How much being stuck in that bed is driving him crazy? He’s depressed, and on edge enough already, I am  _ not _ gonna dump my shit in his lap for him to deal with, too. He doesn’t need that right now. I promise I’ll tell him when the time is right,” she finished quietly.

 

“But that’s just it, Dany, the time will never be right. What if something happens? Maybe he’ll even say something to trigger it. You’ll wind up having an attack in front of him sooner or later. What are you going to do then?" his sister asked. "If he knows before he has to see you that way, he’ll be able to stay calm, and help you. He’d want to help you, just like you’re helping him."

 

_ Attack? What the hell was she talking about? _

 

“I think you need to drop it, Arya,” Robb said.

 

_ No, don’t drop it. He needed to know what the hell was going on. _

 

“I can’t. That’s our brother, and she’s gonna be taking care of him. We can all see how they feel about each other, no matter how much they try to hide it. He deserves to know. He  _ needs _ to know. I knew what was going on with her, and it still freaked me out when she had that one earlier. No matter how much I feel for her and all she’s been through, it wasn’t enough to prepare me. And I knew about them. Jon will freak the fuck out, and hurt himself even more trying to help her if he doesn’t know what’s happening. I know I sound like an A-class bitch, but I’m only trying to protect both of you."

 

“Upsetting him is the last thing I want, Arya. You have to know that by now," Dany whispered. "For the most part, I know when they’re coming, and I can keep him from seeing me that way. I don’t think it’s time, alright?” Dany told her, voice small and pleading.

 

_ God,  _ he wanted to get up and go to her, wrap her in his arms, tell her whatever it was he could handle it. They could handle it together.

 

“You don’t think Jon is gonna get mad at you, do you? Are you worried he won’t want you here anymore? Is that it?” Arya asked gently.

 

“He won’t want me to leave because he’s mad at me, he’ll want me to leave because he’s  _ afraid _ of me,” Dany answered.

 

_ Afraid of her? Why would he ever be afraid of such a tiny thing like her? _

 

“Dany, I’m sorry, but that’s…  _ No _ ," Robb cut in, calm and soothing. "He won't be. I promise. He’s already told you it wasn’t your fault. We all have. Your past has nothing to do with what happened last week.”

 

“Is this your ‘I’m cursed BS again’? Because that’s what it is, bullshit!” Arya hissed quietly.

 

_ Okay, he'd had enough _ .

 

He opened his eyes and looked over at them. Arya was standing against the sink across the room, facing him with her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at Dany who was sitting to her right. He'd thought Arya would look angry because of the tone she'd had, but she looked worried and sad instead.

 

Dany had her head down as she fiddled with her shirt. He could only see her profile, but it was very evident how upset she was. A tear slid down her cheek.

 

Robb was sitting beside her with his back to him. He was rubbing Dany's knee. The spike of jealousy that shot through Jon was shocking, and silencing.

 

“You’re not some harbinger of death, or a black widow, Dany," Arya went on. "You’re just a person who’s had more than her fair share of loss. Way more. You have a chance to start again, put all that behind you. I wish you’d grab it with both hands and run, that’s all. I know Jon better than anyone. Once he knows everything he’ll feel the same as I do, probably even more so,” she told her.

 

Jon was surprised at the care and concern Arya had in her voice. His sister was not known for her overwhelming compassion, more like the opposite. He feared what Dany had been through to make Arya feel that way toward her. 

 

_ It had to be bad, much worse than just losing a spouse _ .

 

He opened his mouth to speak but Dany took a deep, shaky breath. “You have no idea how bad I want to do that. But I’m scared," she whispered, voice cracking. "I know I’ll never survive it if I give him a chance, and he realizes he can’t handle me and all my baggage. It really will be the end of me. I don’t know if I can risk what’s left of my heart, or put that kind of pressure on him. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to have to deal with someone so broken,” she choked as more tears fell.

 

“Shouldn’t I get to decide that?” he asked. She gasped, her huge eyes locking with his from across the room. “I think Dany and I need to talk, guys. Can you give us a few, please?” He never took his eyes off her as his cousins quietly hurried out, shutting the door behind them. Dany sat terrified and frozen to her chair as she stared back at him. He stretched his right arm out and waved his fingers at her. “Please, Dany? Come talk to me. Bring your chair over here, I need you close.” 

 

He hoped it would ease some of her fear, and his, too. He had no idea what he was about to hear.

 

It took her a few moments of deep breathing, but she finally stood, and dragged her chair over, putting it sideways against the bed, facing toward him. Once she sat down, he held his hand back out for her to take. She looked as scared as a rabbit caught, tiny and trembling, so unsure of herself, fat tears swimming in her blue eyes. 

 

His heart gained a few more jagged cracks.

 

“Please?” he whispered. She reached up and wiped her face, then took his hand in hers. He gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.” Keeping a grip on her, he rubbed his knuckles across her jaw. Her eyes closed, lashes falling against her flushed cheeks before looking back at him full of concern. 

 

“Are you okay? Is your pain all right?”  

 

He smiled softly. 

 

_ Always so worried about him. _

 

“I feel like a new man now that I’m off my back. I’m good for a while. How about you, are you okay?” He knew she wasn’t, but felt like he needed to ask anyway. She shook her head, biting into her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. He let go of her hand and cupped her face, caught a tear with his thumb, wiping it away. “God, I wish I could hold you right now.”

 

A choking sort of whimper left her and she scrambled to her knees. Kneeling in the chair, she laid her top half on the bed, gently snuggling against his chest, head on his arm, face tucked in the crook of his neck.

 

A great breath left him as he wrapped an arm around her. It felt so right to hold her, but he would've given almost anything to stop her tears. He rubbed her back as much as the awkward position would let him, and kissed the top of her pale hair as she continued to cry softly. 

 

“Whatever it is Dany, I can handle it. I promise. We’ll handle it together, okay? But you have to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don't talk to me.”

 

She swallowed hard and sniffed a few times. “How long were you awake?” she whispered.

 

“There was some talk about putting an elevator chair on my priceless staircase,” he told her, then smiled into her hair. "I also heard something about maybe getting a sponge bath.”

 

“Oh, God,” she groaned, tucking herself tighter into his neck. He couldn’t help but laugh, but tried to keep it controlled. He didn’t want his pain to get in the way of their conversation. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her lips and breath moving gently over his skin. 

 

The feel of it nearly had him groaning.

 

He gathered himself, pushed away the physical wants, it certainly wasn't the time, but he couldn't help but tease her a little. “Don't be. If you ever want to, I’ll be glad to lay still for you." 

 

An amused huff had her gently shaking in his arms and she pinched his chest lightly in return, but she fell still and quiet again, leaving him wondering and worried. 

 

He nosed into her silky hair, brushing at her temple. She smelled too good, like a smooth shot of whiskey felt– comforting and arousing all at once. He breathed her in and swallowed down his nerves. “Please talk to me," he pleaded, his voice more wrecked than he expected. "I promise I won't get upset, but I need to know who you are. I need to know why you’re here. Why you’re setting your life aside to take care of a stranger. Whatever this is that’s happening between us, I  _ want _ it, Dany,” he breathed out, his thumb stroking the impossibly soft skin beneath her ear. “I want it even more than I want out of this bed, and there’s nothing I want more than that right now. So,  _ please? _ Talk to me.”

 

She breathed in and exhaled, shuddering. “My life hasn’t been a good one, Jon."

 

“I’m sorry you lost him.”

 

“Not just him. Everyone dies around me," she whimpered. "I’m cursed.”

 

He shook his head. “I don’t believe that for a second.”                         

 

“I am. I swear I am," she insisted, breath hitching. "How else can you explain that everyone I’ve ever loved is dead?" she asked. "My parents and brothers, my uncle, my in-laws, my husband…”

 

_ Shit.  _ “Everyone? You have no family left at all?”

 

“No," she choked. "They’re all dead. And it’s my fault. I nearly got you, too,” she whispered.

 

He pulled her closer and kissed her head again. “ _ Dany _ … What happened to me wasn’t your fault, and I can’t believe that you’re the reason anyone has died either.” 

 

She took a deep, shaky breath. “Somewhere deep down I know I'm not, but it’s hard to believe that when you’re the only one left.” 

 

He pressed his lips to her forehead for a long moment. “I’m so sorry. Losing my mom and dad was…  I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

 

“I’m sorry you lost them," she said softly, her fingers tracing over the hollow of his throat. "It had to be so scary as young as you were.”

 

“Yeah." It had been. Three nightmarish years spent in a dozen different foster homes before the courts released him to Ned. But that was a story for another day. "I had Uncle Ned, and my cousins, though," he assured her. "What happened to yours? If it’s okay to ask.”

 

“A house fire when I was sixteen. I’d been spending the night with a friend so…"

 

He ran his hand down her back and up again, ignoring the pain it caused him. "What happened after?" 

 

"I moved in with my great uncle Aemon. He was wonderful. I had him until I was eighteen. He died of a stroke. I met my husband right after. In the funeral home of all places,” she said with a small huff. “His folks had known Uncle Aemon, they dragged him to the viewing. He let me grieve for a while, then started coming around to check on me. Three months later I had a ring on my finger, four more and we were married. I wasn’t alone anymore, I had a family again. It went okay for the next three years or so, then Mr. Ezra died. My father in law. A neighbor saw him lying in the field and called for help, but it was too late. Miss Naomi, sweet soul that she was, was gone six months later. We thought it was only a bad infection, but it turned out she was eat up with cancer. It took my husband a good year to get mostly back to normal. Losing them both so close together, he didn't take it well. Wasn't that easy for me either."

 

"No, it couldn't have been," he agreed.

 

“I thought surely the worst was over, that we’d been through the bad times, and it was only going to be good from then on out. And it was for another year and a half, but I got a bad headache that day, like a migraine. I never got migraines.” Her voice had changed, sounding ghost-like and far away. She wasn't there with him, but somewhere in the past. 

 

His heart sank into the pit of his stomach.              

 

“It should’ve been me. But he went so I could rest. The other man fell asleep at the wheel. The officers said he ran into the back of his truck. It spun out, then flipped a bunch. He was thrown out… They said it was instant.” 

 

He gathered her as close as he could get her, holding her tight. “I’m sorry, Dany. I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair. 

 

How she survived losing so many loved ones was a miracle. He seriously doubted he could have. Losing his Mom and Dad the way he had almost killed him, but she’d lost everyone she ever loved. He couldn't imagine how excruciating it’d been for her to be the only one left behind. 

 

“I only made it through the funeral thanks to the drugs my friend Grey found me,” she went on, her voice stronger than before, but still ragged around the edges. “Once I made it home to my bed, I didn’t leave it for months. He and Missy, kept me alive. Made sure I ate at least once a day. Took turns holding me while I cried a million tears, sat with me as I stared at nothing, or did their best to calm me down when the nightmares hit. They would strip me out of clothes that stunk of week old body odor, and put clean sheets on my bed. The old ones were always soaked with sweat. All while I'd take a bath, and think about drowning myself.”

 

_ What could anyone possibly say to that? _

 

He couldn’t think of a damn thing that would help or make any difference, all he wanted was to gather her up and take her somewhere so she'd never hurt again. But he couldn't, so he tried to make up for it as best he could– continued to hold her close, rubbed her back, and left gentle kisses across her forehead. 

 

After a few minutes of silence, she let out a long sigh. “The steel magnolia my mama taught me to be is long gone.”

 

“You’re still here, Dany," he whispered against her skin. "After all of that. If that’s not a person being made of steel, I don’t know what is.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with my story yet,” she laughed bitterly. "Still wanna hear the rest?"

 

He had an answer for that.

 

"I do. I want to know you, Dany. All of you."

 

A small shudder went through her, a pitiful noise working loose from her throat, but she worked to hold herself together with a few deep calming breaths. Jon stayed quiet, never loosening his grip on her, sensing anything more, a word or touch, might send her off the edge. 

 

“Missy and Grey," she finally managed a minute or two later, "they'd had enough of watching me disappear in front of them, so they took me to a place they found in Atlanta called Serenity. It’s a grief treatment center. It took ten months, but they got me back to the land of the living, somewhat. I owe most of that to Tyrion, my therapist. We worked for months to get my depression under control, but then the attacks started.”

 

“Panic attacks? Did I hear Arya said you had one today?” 

 

“Yeah, I did. I’ve been having them for a while now. I’ve improved, but no amount of medicine, therapy, or time has completely gotten rid of them.”

 

“How many have you had since you got here?”

 

“You mean Savannah, or the hospital?”

 

“The hospital. Since the robbery.” 

 

“Eight, nine, twelve. I lose count.”

 

_ Damn, that was a lot.  _ He didn’t know how she stood them. He was pretty sure he'd had a few himself in the past week, and that was a few too many. 

 

“That’s why you know how to make me feel better when I start freaking out, isn’t it?” he asked.

 

She nodded, her head bumping his chin. "Yeah," she whispered, bringing her hand up and laying it against the side of his neck, fingers dipping into his hair, rubbing softly. “I’m so sorry you’re having them, but I’m glad I know how to help.”

 

“I’d much rather you not know." He turned his head enough to kiss the base of her thumb before letting out a sigh. "Those damn bastards at Starbucks didn’t help, I’m sure.”

 

“No, but it seems to have just mixed in with all the rest.” 

 

Something shifted inside him at the heavy weight of surrender hanging from her words. He knew that feeling, the acceptance that nothing better was coming, of being destined to a life of pain.

 

_ This is it, your lot in life. Deal with it or die crying. _

 

He didn't want that for her and he knew then, without a doubt, he'd do whatever he could to never let anything bad ever happen to her again, even if he had to watch over her from afar like some masked vigilante. He nearly snorted out loud at himself, but hey, he'd saved her once and survived, he could do it again. 

 

Or maybe the painkillers were just fucking with him.

 

He kissed her head and gave her another squeeze. “I’m sorry. Finish what you were saying. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”  

 

Her fingers had found their way back into his hair, playing with the messy curls. It seemed to have developed into a crutch for both of them, but he certainly didn't care. She drew in a deep breath and blew it out. "That first week back home was horrible," she murmured. "I had one within minutes of walking into the house. Missy had met me there, and I completely freaked her out. She thought I was having a heart attack. She even called the EMTs. I had a few dozen more before the week was over. 

 

“Every time I tried to go anywhere in the house except for the living room, kitchen, or bath I would crumple to the floor gasping for air. It was a month before I could handle having company over, and that was only my lawyer. I got him to make sure everything was taken care of and finalized. I had sold everything but our house while I was away– the farm land, my in-law’s place. Part of me wanted to sell our house too, but for some reason I didn’t. 

 

“The lawyer reminded me that I owned the house here. He knew I didn’t want to stay in Tennessee, but didn’t want to sell it all either, so he suggested I stay here for awhile and give myself time to figure things out. I held on another month in Tennessee, sitting there and staring at the walls. I would perk up when Missy and Grey called or came by, but it was all a farce. I was slipping. I knew I couldn’t keep living like that anymore. It wasn’t a life. I had no desire whatsoever to do anything but disappear. I couldn’t end it at home. After all Missy and Grey did for me, I couldn’t do that to them. So, I packed a small bag, and booked a plane ticket to Savannah.” 

 

His heart was pounding, the hair on his arms standing up. A sickening dread rolled in his stomach like he was on some rickety carnival ride that was moments from falling apart and killing everyone on it. He swallowed hard. “Dany, are you telling me what I think you are?” he whispered.

 

She shrugged. “Probably. I came here to die, Jon," she told him plainly, voice flat. "The plan was to take a bunch of sleeping pills. They're still on my nightstand at the house, but for some reason, I couldn't get myself to take them. I left the house for the first time the day we met, just rode around for hours. I can't tell you why, or what told me I needed coffee and had me walking into that Starbucks, but something did."

 

He'd pulled her to him tight, his lips pressed into her hair as he tried to slow his breathing. “Whatever it was, I’m so glad you didn’t take them. That you’re here with me instead.” 

 

She didn't respond and he didn't know what to think, or say, or do. Then she carefully pulled away and sat back, leaning her elbows on the bed. Her fingers picked at his sheets, teeth worrying her full lips, eyes everywhere else but on him. He waited, barely breathing, the urge to pull her back in his arms nearly overwhelming, but he did his best to ignore it, gently laying his hand over hers instead and gave her time. He feared he might never be able to let her out of his sight again though.

 

_ God, what she'd been through. _

 

“I’d be dead either way if it wasn't for you,” she finally managed, her eyes meeting his for the first time since she'd started talking. They were red and swollen from her tears, making him want to hold her all the more. “You saved me in more than one way that night. You saved me physically, but you also saved me here,” she said softly, and put his hand over her heart. “When I saw you that first time… your eyes... that smile… You scared me.”

 

He pulled a face and snorted out a laugh. “Me smiling scared you?”

 

"It's not  _ that _ funny," she mumbled, eyes downcast again.

 

_ Way to go, dipshit. _

 

"Hey." He cupped her cheek bringing her eyes back to his. "I'm not laughing at you, just the irony of it. Ask anyone that knows me, Dany. I don't smile. I'm," he rolled his eyes, " _ dark and broody _ ."

 

She snarled her cute nose, her eyebrows taking on a life of their own. "That's not true, you smile at me all the time."

 

He was unable to stop his lips from curving up. 

 

"See," she crooned, triumphant.

 

"Yeah, I do," he replied, low and rough, his heart simply done for. 

 

_ God help him. He was fucked, so very fucked.  _

 

"Why did I scare you?" he asked, steering them back on track before he made a fool of himself. 

 

“Because you made me feel again," she whispered. "Something other than pain and hopelessness. You were so gorgeous and happy standing there smiling at me, I didn't know whether to run away or drown myself in you. You made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a very long time. You still do."

 

“Good things?” 

 

“Yes, but I can’t help but be afraid. Everyone I've ever cared about has died and not ten minutes after I met you, you were laying in my arms bleeding out on the floor. It’s easy to believe that I’m the reason for all the pain and death.”

 

He shook his head. “No, Dany, you’re not. You can’t think like that,” he told her adamantly as he squeezed her hand. “You didn’t cause any of your family to die, and I’ve already told you it was my choice to protect you. You never asked me to, in fact you begged me not to. I did it because I wanted to.” 

 

She sat back on her heels and rubbed her face with her hands letting out a shuddering breath. When she looked back up at him again her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth, chin giving a slight quiver. He had to distract her.

 

“You didn’t tell me how I saved you there,” he said pointing at her heart. “Surely, I didn’t do it by scaring you.” 

 

She smirked the tiniest bit, and he was so happy to see it. She gave a quick shake of her pale head. “No, it wasn't because you scared me." Her eyes dropped to her hands where she was picky at her nails. "Can I ask you something?"

 

"Sure, anything."

 

Those ocean eyes pinned him down, threatened to drown him. "Why did you do it? Why risk your life for me?"

 

He didn't even have to think about it. "It was the right thing to do. Why did I deserve to live and not you?"

 

"I had already given up—"

 

"I didn't know that, and even if I had, I still would've done it."

 

" _ That's _ how you saved my heart. Without even knowing me you decided I was  _ worth _ saving. How could I not take that gift and choose to live again? How horrible of a person would I be if I let you save me then turned around and killed myself?” 

 

_ Wait... _

 

“You’re choosing to live out of obligation to me?” 

 

“What? No! That’s not what I meant. Well, at least not completely." She let out a frustrated groan. "I don't know how to explain it, not to sound…" She closed her eyes and took a breath before looking at him again. "You showed me that maybe I was worth saving, that maybe living would be better than dying," she told him quietly, then pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbing it a bit. “I  _ do _ feel obligated to help you through this for saving me, but I want to  _ live _ because you thought I was worth saving." She took a breath. "I want to live because I think I might have a reason to now,” she whispered. 

 

He reached out and gently grabbed her arm, tugging her toward him. She came willingly, but stayed back enough they could look at each other. “You do have one, and I intend on it staying that way.” 

 

She traced her fingers down his cheek and something lifted from her eyes, shadows maybe, leaving them bright and clear as the ocean scattered through with sunlight. She stole his breath. "In case you didn’t hear me the first time I said it the other day, thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome," he rasped, unable to do more.

 

He wanted to kiss her, like he'd never wanted to kiss a woman before. There was no lust behind the need, well maybe a little, but mostly he felt it might begin to heal their scars, just a bit, like that first dab of salve smoothed over a cut. But did he risk it? Would it sting more than soothe? 

 

Her soft smile gave him the courage he needed.

 

"I'll take a kiss in return, if that would work for you?” he asked giving her the sweetest smile he could.

 

“I think I can spare one,” she said with a smirk, leaning down slowly. 

 

He slid his fingers into the hair at the back of her neck, pulling her a little closer until her lips touched his. It probably wasn't a movie-worthy kiss, but it was soft and sweet, made his heart pound, and want to kiss her more. He kept it PG so she didn't have to deal with his morphine breath, and because he knew he couldn’t rush things with her now. The thing between them was going to have to be slow and easy. Much sooner than he wanted to, he loosened his grip on her neck and she pulled back, smiling softly.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, “Now can you help me turn over, I want to hold you.”

 

She frowned at him. “Jon, I don’t know if that's—"  

 

“Please? I’ve wanted you to lay down with me all week. I know we can be careful,” he said, trying to convince her. 

 

She gave him an impatient look, but got up and helped him gently move his left leg back over the right as he slowly rolled over. He only grunted when his left shoulder touched the bed and when she slid a pillow under his leg. After adjusting the covers so he was decent, she carefully laid down on his right side, but stayed stiff as a board. 

 

“Put your leg over mine,” he told her.

 

“ _ Jon _ .”

 

“ _ Dany _ .”

 

“Fine,” she grumbled and picked her own leg up–way higher than she needed to–and gently laid it over his right hip so that it rested between his legs. He nudged her right arm until she put it over his stomach, and then let out a sigh. “That’s much better. I can stay in this bed for weeks like this,” he whispered.

 

“I doubt they’ll let us, but it is nice,” she murmured back. 

 

Jon kissed her head and let his eyes fall closed as he played with her hair. Five minutes had barely passed before she was asleep. He let himself drift off after her.

 


	11. There's nowhere else I'd rather be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tells Arya goodbye, he and Dany have another phone call and an important talk. A decision is made for their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Posting a day early :) Jonerys Week starts tomorrow so I wanted to get this posted and out of the way to make room for all the awesome canon fix-its and redos we're gonna get. Ash and I have another chapter of our Dark Dragons going up and I know she has a new chapter of her awesome resurrection fic Where Are You Now? ready too. I hope to finish Slipping Away as well, but wish me luck, I'm gonna need the speed demon muse to hit me, lol. 
> 
> Regardless of all of that, I just want to give you all huge hugs and lots of love! All of you have left me such sweet comments on this fic, and some of you have made me cry buckets telling me some of your stories and how this fic has touched you. I can tell you right now, for this author and I believe probably ever author, there's no greater reward than that. Connecting with readers, being told you've helped them... I don't have words for how that makes me feel and you guys know I know lots of feel words, lol. All I can say is THANK YOU! Wishing you all good days full of peace and happiness and health! <3
> 
> Big love and thanks to Ashley and Jalenmara for their cheering, shoves, and beta work on this. Love you ladies!!!!

  


Take what you need, and leave the rest

No I don't mind, no I don't mind

I'll get this off my chest

There's nowhere else I'd rather be

Come flying in, and then again

I'm not here long enough to pretend that I see so well

There's nowhere else you'd rather be

Like a hummingbird in flight you are

Hovering, hovering 'round me

And I move near, you fly away

Like a hummingbird in flight you are

Hovering, hovering near me

As I move near, you fly away

Don't fly away

Don't fly away

Don't fly away

Like a hummingbird in flight you are

Hovering, hovering 'round me

And I move near, you fly away

Like a hummingbird in flight you are

Hovering, hovering near me

As I move near, you fly away

Don't fly away

Don't fly away

 

Alex Clare - Hummingbird

  
  
  


_ Friday morning- one week after shooting _

 

"I'll try to be back in a week or so," she said, her voice a bit thready. 

 

He could barely see her, the bathroom light throwing a halo around her head but keeping her face in total darkness. She really did look like some secret government agent, one doing those corny interviews where they're nothing but black silhouettes with warped voices. 

 

"Arya, you don't need to," he rasped. 

 

It was so damn early. He squinted over at the clock.  _ Fuck.  _ 4:15. He groaned and shifted slowly to his side wondering why it mattered. Time meant nothing anymore. Hospitals were fucking twilight zones, patients their victims, poked and prodded and in pain twenty-four seven.

 

"I want to," she said and tilted her head at him. He saw an eyebrow slowly raise in the faint light, "and you're too busted up to do anything about stopping me, so…."

 

He rolled is eyes. She fucking had him there. 

 

"I do know how to make phone calls you know?"

 

"Oh! Speaking of," she turned around and dug through her backpack before spinning back again with an iPad in hand, "Keep this. I wiped it last night. Added back everything you might need. We can video chat."

 

He cut her a skeptical look. "Isn't that government issue?"

 

"Yeah, but they'll just bitch at me for losing it and give me another one."

 

He motioned for her to put it on his tray table and scrubbed a hand down his face hoping to wake up more. He'd asked for this. They could've said goodbye at the decent hour of eight p.m. the night before, but neither of them wanted her to go at all, so they decided to drag it out. They were a couple of dumbasses. 

 

"Let me know when you get home," he told her.

 

"Yeah, I will." She stood up, rubbing her palms down her pant's legs before turning and leaning against his bed. "You listen to the docs. Get yourself outta here."

 

"That's the plan."

 

She shuffled around, crossing her skinny arms over her chest. Let out a sigh. He was too tired and short tempered from the constant pain to be patient and let her spill whatever it was that was bothering her in her own time.

 

"What is it?" he prodded. Her face scrunched up and she chewed at her thumbnail. "Arya."

 

She huffed out a sigh and finally looked at him head on. "Are you sure you're good with Dany? I like her and all, but… Now that I gotta leave, I'm worried. I could stay, or maybe Dad could come get you."

 

He scowled hard enough it made his head hurt. "Go live with Cat? Sorry, but no fucking way," he grumbled. "And you have to go back. You're not getting in trouble because of me. Dany and I are fine, we'll  _ be _ fine. We'll figure it out."

 

"Y'all aren't acting fine," she nagged, sounding too much like his kid sister. She was supposed to be twenty-two, not twelve. "I uh… could check into her, make sure…"

 

"No," he snapped. "You promised me."

 

She threw her hands up and heaved a sigh. "Fine. Have you told her anything yet?"

 

"No."

 

"Jon, why? She's not gonna care. She told you. Besides, everybody has a tragic backstory. As those go, yours isn't the worst, better than hers anyway."

 

"Yeah, depressed alcoholic with a traumatic childhood," he said. "Lots of peachy goodness."

 

"You're not really an alcoholic and  _ all _ of it wasn't traumatic."

 

"Close enough."

 

"Was she right? Should she not have told you?"

 

He blew out a harsh sigh and scratched at his beard. "No, I'm glad she did. I am. It's just… It's a lot, okay? All of this, me shot up, my past, her past, whatever's going on with us… It's all a fucking lot."

 

"I know that, that's why y'all  _ need _ to fucking talk," she said. "You're gonna be living together soon for fuck's sake. Things started fucked up enough, at least try to—"

 

He dropped his fist to the bedrail making it clatter and shake. "Just drop it, alright? I'll handle it. I appreciate the relationship advice and all, but you suck at em. Look what a bitch you are to Gendry. I can't even have my best friend around because of it."

 

She pushed herself off his bed with a shocked gasp, shoving it and him hard enough a spike of pain shot through his leg.  _ The little brat. _ "You're an asshole sometimes, you know that?" 

 

_ Fuck. Yeah _ , he was,  _ damnit _ . He clenched his teeth and huffed, his eyes falling closed beneath his hand as he rubbed at his temples. "I'm sorry. It's just… early, every fucking inch of me fucking hurts, and I'm sick of being in this fucking shit hole."

 

"Yeah, I know. Lucky thing I love you," she snarled. "I should've kicked you in the balls for that. You're no shining example of healthy relationships either."

 

"I said I was sorry," he mumbled. She didn't respond with another bitchy retort liked he'd hoped. He really had hurt her feelings. He pulled his hand away and looked over at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," he told her, heartfelt that time.

 

"Yeah, you did. But you weren't wrong either. Doesn't change me being right." Her shoulders slumped, head down as she picked at her nails. "Will you at least reconsider the antidepressants Dr. Tarth offered you?"

 

_ Damn it all. He loved her, but he was about ready to strangle her.  _

 

"No, I won't," he bit out.

 

"They help, Jon. You know they do."

 

"Yeah, they help one thing and fuck up ten more. It took me two years to get off em, no fucking way I'm going back."

 

Her hands fell to her sides with a slap. "Whatever, bro. I tried."

 

"What is with you? Are you purposely trying to piss me off before you leave so I won't miss you or something?" 

 

"No," she hissed, "I'm trying to help you, talk some sense into your hard fucking head, just like you would do if it were me laying there."

 

He raked a hand through his nappy hair.  _ Somebody was gonna wash it today, he was sick of it feeling, and no doubt looking, like a tangled oil slick.  _ But that wasn't important at the moment.

 

Arya was gathering her things, back turned to him, sulled up and sad, and it was all his fault. 

 

"Sis, c'mere."

 

She froze and her backpack slid out of her hand and onto the floor. She was at his side a moment later and he pulled her against him, cupping the back of her head and pressing a kiss to her temple. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being a dick. I hear you, I promise. But I just need time, okay? I need some time to sort through it all. I will though. You know I always get back up."

 

"I need you to be okay," she whispered, voice small and choked.

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

He squeezed her as tight as he could and gave her another kiss. "I will be. I promise." 

 

_ He hoped.  _

 

She clung to him for a bit, her breathing too uneven for his liking, but he let her be. No telling when he'd see her again. Just because she wanted to come back didn't mean they'd let her. But then he caught sight of the clock again. She was gonna miss her flight. 

 

Heart aching, he nudged at her with his nose. "I don't want you to, but you gotta go. You're gonna be late."

 

She nodded and gave a sniff. "I love you, Jon."

 

"I love you too. Thanks for coming, made this bullshit tolerable."

 

She pulled away, leaving a rough kiss to his cheek. Then she was gone, the door closing with a loud thunk and click behind her.

 

He laid there wide awake until dawn crept through the blinds, feeling like the biggest sack of shit, and more sorry for himself than any man had a right to, but at least he fought off the urge to push the call button and ask for more drugs. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


_ Thursday- two weeks after the shooting _

 

The shrill ringing of her phone woke her. She cracked her eyes open to see it was well past dawn outside, her room overly bright and cheery. Her alarm had been set for six, she'd obviously slept through it. 

 

Sleep had evaded her most of the night, the sheets still a knotted, twisted mess from all her tossing and turning. She was back at the vacation house, the hope having been to get some much needed rest. She'd had a few nightmares during the week. Jon so far had slept through them all, but since they were getting serious about weaning him off the morphine, she'd left the night before, unwilling to let him witness her freak show. 

 

She fumbled for the phone for several seconds before managing to find it. 

 

“Hello,” she croaked, trying to clear her throat.

 

“Dany? You okay? I thought you’d be back by now." Jon, his worry evident.

 

“Yeah, I’m okay, I overslept. I’m sorry.” 

 

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you got some rest," he said lowly.

 

He sounded as tired as she felt.

 

They thought the week before had been an eternity, but this one was hell-bent on proving both of them to be a naive idiots. Every day had crept by slower than the last, like trying to pour cold syrup on pancakes in the dead of winter. The mental, emotional, and physical strain of the whole situation was beginning to crush them beneath its weight. 

 

Especially Jon.

 

Despite how well he'd seemed to have taken her past the Friday before, he’d been acting different since. Just as she feared he would. She thought a large part of it could be him missing Arya, and the rest of his family and friends, but she was fairly certain that wasn't all of it. Not even most of it. They had all called or video chatted with him several times a piece after all.

 

It hurt, but she had to admit she didn’t know Jon well enough to know what was going on with him. She knew he’d been through hell the past two weeks, so he had a right to be depressed and out of sorts. He was headed that way before she told him about her past, which is exactly why she didn’t want to tell him. 

 

But, what was done was done. She couldn’t undo it. She could only be there for him like she promised. She didn’t stay to help him in hopes of them ever being a couple anyway, not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind more times than it should have. 

 

They had held hands a few times, but no more naps had been taken, and he hadn't tried to kiss her again. She knew he was afraid of pushing her, and she was too afraid to ask him to. She'd stolen a few kisses from his cheek or forehead while he was sleeping though. She hated the fact she could breathe better when he was asleep, but her nerves would calm to tolerable levels when his eyes weren’t trying to strip her soul bare.

 

Those deep chocolate eyes of his were not only breathtakingly beautiful, but they had the uncanny ability to convey every emotion known and unknown, sometimes all at once. His face could be completely void of feelings, but his eyes would be doing everything in their power to undo her. The number of times she'd had to look away from them as they stared back at her was ridiculous. They could cause her eyes to flood and her heart to break almost as fast as they made it flutter and her cheeks redden. She'd even had to leave the room two different times early in the week so he wouldn’t see the anxiety attacks his intensity was causing. 

 

But worst of all was the pussyfooting around each other’s feelings they'd both been doing all week. Both afraid of upsetting the other, she guessed. He probably hated her doing it to him as much as she hated him doing it to her.

 

“I’m hoping you got some rest, too?” she asked, climbing out of bed.  _ Please let there still some coffee in this place. _

 

“Yeah,” he answered with a sigh. Which probably meant he didn't. The hospital staff was notorious for coming in all hours of the day and night, checking this or that. Changing iv bags, drawing blood for tests. Forever waking him up just as he'd fallen asleep.

 

She'd sent more than a few scurrying away, pissed as hell they kept torturing him for what seemed like no good reason.

 

“Hey, I have some good news,” he said, sounding a bit more chipper.

 

“Really? I’d love to hear it.” 

 

_ They needed some good news. _

 

“I actually used the can for the first time in two weeks. I didn’t have to shit in a bedpan!” 

 

She burst out laughing, dropping the coffee cup she'd just pulled from the cabinet and almost breaking it. “I’m so happy for you," she chuckled. "I’m sure you feel much better now.” She'd overheard him tell one of the nurses he couldn’t go all week, but she figured it was more  _ wouldn’t _ , than couldn’t. She didn’t blame him though. 

 

_ Who wants to poop in a bedpan? _

 

“It hurt like a bitch, but yeah, I do. Uh, getting to the can hurt, not the other part by the way,” he laughed softly.

 

She snorted. “Thanks for clearing that up for me, I would have wondered forever."  

 

_ Did he really have to be funny, too? _

 

He laughed with her for a second then let out a groan. “Ugh, no laughing, my head will explode.”

 

“Oooh, sorry. Migraine again?” He’d been having them on and off all week. Unfortunately, Dr. Tarth said they would stick around for a while.

 

“Yeah. Oh, more good news, Jake's already been by this morning. He's pretty happy with my progress," he told her.

 

"Oh?"

 

Jake was his physical therapist. He had shown up early Monday morning and gotten Jon out of bed for the first time. He'd been way too weak and wobbly to stand on his own, but with Jake's, and another PT’s help they got him up. And after several minutes of convincing Jon to even try it, he was able to walk the few steps it took to get to the recliner and sit down. They took things slow, of course, the whole process from sitting him up on the bed to him sitting in the chair, taking a good fifteen minutes. 

 

They'd been getting him up everyday since, several times usually, and though she could easily see the pain and frustration the effort caused him, the relief of being able to move around and be out of bed overrode it all. 

 

Every time he made it to the chair he would look over at her with a beautiful smile on his face. The same one he gave her the day they met. She never could help smiling back, or contain the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

 

He still hadn't put his whole weight on his leg, but Jake said in a couple of weeks he should be able to.

 

"Yeah, I did such a good job moving around on my own yesterday and today he's gonna talk to Dr. Luwin about letting me go home early.”

 

_ Fuck. _

 

“Oh… wow. That’s… that’s awesome."

 

_ Go home. Both of them. Living in a home, together. Just the two of them.  _

 

_ She wasn't ready. They told them it would be another week. She needed more time.  _

 

“I know. We get to go home, I am so fucking ready.” He was beyond thrilled as he should be, but she was…  _ Terrified. _

 

She was skipping right over anxiety, and plunging straight into overwhelming panic– heart pounding in her throat, hands trembling, breath shallow. 

 

She had to get off the phone with him before he figured it out. “That’s great, hon, let me go so I can get ready to come up there,” she panted, hoping he took it for excitement.

 

“Uh, yeah, okay. Dany, are you alright?” 

 

“Fine, I’ll see ya soon,” she squeaked and ended the call, the phone clattering to the floor. She fell to her hands and knees, her heart trying to tear through her ribs, skin already covered in a cold sweat. No matter how much air she sucked in she still couldn't breathe. The walls began to close in around her as her stomach heaved with nausea. Her ears were ringing, head spinning, vision turning black around bright flashing lights. 

 

_ She was gonna die right there on the kitchen floor.  _

 

_ No. No, she wouldn’t. Not like that. _

 

Crawling most of the way, and stumbling the rest, she made it to the bathroom and into the shower, clothes and all. She turned the knob only a half turn with trembling hands. The cold water hit like a thousand tiny ice picks, making her gasp for a new reason. She welcomed it, stripping off her t-shirt and panties. The water's constant thrashing against her chilled body blurred her burning eyes and forced out the sobs that had to come. And the ache, that horrible, never-ceasing ache. It was inside her soul, throbbing deep in her bones. There was no stopping it, so she let it flow. Sometimes the only way out of hell was straight through.

  
  
  


*~*

  
  
  


She made it to the hospital almost an hour later, but she was still a mess. Two big cups of coffee on an empty stomach was a mistake. She was shaking like a leaf, but it had been the only way she was going to make it. Running into the cafeteria, she grabbed some peanut butter crackers and a water to hopefully dilute the caffeine.  

 

She was washing down the last cracker when she made it to Jon’s room. With all her chewing and swallowing she hadn’t heard the voices before rushing inside. She stopped short and plastered on her crazy Dany smile when she saw both Dr. Luwin and Dr. Tarth sitting on Jon’s bed. He was in the recliner. 

 

The ever-polite Dr. Luwin nodded deeply toward her. “Miss Targaryen. So nice to see you.” 

 

“Hello, Dany,” Dr. Tarth greeted her, smile tight as always.

 

She kept smiling like the crazy person she was, and nodded vigorously at them. “Morning. Sorry I interrupted, please continue.” 

 

She scurried over to stand by Jon, smiling down at him for a second before trying to focus on his doctors. She ignored the concerned look Jon shot her. She was still so frazzled she could do no more than stand there worrying the hem of her T-shirt hoping to stay calm. She managed it, but went too far, slipping past relaxed and falling into apathy. The doctors were speaking, but she couldn't understand them. Only mumbling reached her ears, none of which made sense. She knew she should care, but didn't. They were nothing but dark blurs to her eyes.

 

_ If they were hard to see, they should be hard to hear, right?  _

 

A warm hand took hold of one of hers, and tugged gently. When her eyes focused a worried pair of beautiful brown ones were looking at her. “There you are. You left me for a bit,” Jon said softly.

 

Something told her he wasn't talking about the night before. A quick look around the room showed her they were alone and she knew immediately what she'd done. She'd had a spell right in front of him and his doctors.

 

_ God, why was she so screwed up? _

 

She pulled her hand from his and covered her face, but Jon was having none of it. 

 

He gently took her by the arm and pulled her hand away from her face. “Dany, look at me. It’s okay,” he whispered. 

 

She shook her head. “No, it’s not,” she choked, sounding like a distraught toddler. 

 

He released her, and slowly lowered the footrest of his chair. Once he had his feet on the floor he reached back up for her hand, and attempted to pull her around to his left side.

 

“Jon? What are you—?” 

 

“I want to hold you. Sit down,” he told her, pulling her toward him.

 

“I can't. I’ll hurt you,” she whispered, swallowing down tears while trying to get away from him. 

 

She wanted out of there. Couldn't stand him seeing her that way. 

 

His grip tightened, but not painfully, and he turned those big doe eyes on her. “Please don’t run from me, Dany. I swear if you leave I  _ will _ follow you. Are you gonna make me hobble after you knowing how painful it’ll be for me?” he asked, with a pleading look.

 

_ Damn him. That was a low blow, and he knew it _ . 

 

“Jon! That’s not fair!” 

 

His look went from pleading to guilty. “I know, but I’m at a disadvantage here. I had no choice.” 

 

They had a stare off for several long seconds. He must've seen the moment she cracked because he pulled her closer the second she did. Very carefully they worked together to get her into his lap. She sat sideways, tucking her body into his right side and kept her legs to his left, as far away from his broken leg as possible. She wasn't really surprised at how quickly she relaxed against him. She'd missed being close to him since their nap the week before. Like it did then, it scared her how perfectly they seemed to fit together.

 

_ She couldn't let herself get used to it. _

 

Slipping his hand into her hair, he softly caressed the back of her neck with his fingers as he pressed his lips to her forehead. He laid his cheek against the top of her head, but didn’t say anything, just held her until her breathing calmed down.

 

_ Why did he have to be gorgeous as all hell, and sweet, too? _

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after taking a few deep breaths, trying to ignore how good he smelled.

 

_ Who smelled that good after laying in a hospital bed for two weeks?  _

 

_ God, she was in so much trouble. _

 

He pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Don’t apologize for something you couldn't control. It wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I’m sure I scared y’all though.”

 

“I was more concerned than scared. Does that happen often?” 

 

She breathed in and slowly let it out. “Not as often as my attacks. My therapist calls it dissociation. Said my mind needs a break sometimes, so I sort of disappear every once in a while. How long was I gone?” 

 

“Maybe five or six minutes. I’m not sure when it actually started. You had an attack before, when we were talking on the phone, didn’t you?” He sounded so worried and hesitant. She hated it.

 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m a freak.” 

 

He suddenly, but gently, grabbed her chin and lifted her head up. His brows were knitted heavily over his nearly black eyes. Her heart skittered against her ribs.

 

“Do not  _ ever _ said that again. You are  _ not _ a freak,” he said in no uncertain terms. 

 

She stared back at him in shock for a few seconds, not knowing how to feel, the heat in his eyes and voice tying her in knots. She didn’t know whether to be angry, turned on, or relieved he didn’t share her opinion.

 

“I’m sorry,” was all she could come up with.

 

His dark scowl still in place, he shook his head. “No. No more apologies either.” He still sounded angry, but his thumb rubbing over her cheek kind of ruined it for him. 

 

She knew there was no need to be afraid of him anyway. She was pretty sure she was safe in his arms. Not because he was hurt and couldn’t chase her if she ran, but because he would never hurt her in the first place. That wasn't who Jon was. 

 

She pulled her chin away from his grasp, and buried her face in his warm neck, holding him as tightly as she could without hurting him. Of course, her floodgates had already opened, and she began to cry in earnest. His response was immediate.

 

“No, Dany. No, fuck. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he apologized. It wasn't his fault, but his words didn't slow her tears down at all. After a minute of her wailing, she heard him let out a deep sigh. “God, I’m an idiot.” 

 

She shook her head. “No… you’re… not,” she stuttered between sharp hitches of air.

 

“You’re sobbing, Dany, and it’s my fault. How does that  _ not _ make me an idiot?” he asked, his tone laced with regret as he stroked her hair. 

 

She pulled away from her hiding place in his neck. “I’m not crying… because you upset me. I’m crying because you’re… so sweet to me.” She sniffled and reached for a tissue on the table beside them.

 

He sat back, his pretty face all scrunched up in confusion. “What?” 

 

She actually giggled through her tears. “I know I can cry and you won’t judge me. You don’t like me to, but you hold me, and let me get it all out. It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone—”

 

“Oh, okay,” he cut over her. He must have known what she was about to say, stopping her from having to. He kissed her forehead, and rubbed her neck again. She relaxed against him, and they sat quietly just enjoying being close. 

 

“Thank you for not seeing me as a freak,” she whispered after a few minutes. 

 

He squeezed her, letting out a small sigh. “Look at me.” 

 

She sat up, but had to force herself to keep eye contact with him. The look he was giving her worse than usual– head tilted, brows up, eyes pitiful, that distracting mouth of his turned down into a plush pout. If she didn’t know better she would swear it was love written all over his face, but that was impossible.

 

“Jon, you can't look at me like that, and not expect me to cry,” she whimpered.

 

“What?” he asked again. “However I’m looking at you, the  _ last _ thing I want is to make you cry, Dany.”

 

“I know,” she sighed. “You– Never mind. Did you want to say something?” They needed to move along.

 

“Yeah. I wanted you to know you are not a freak. Not even close,” he said, reaching up and brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “You’re just sad, and you have more right than anyone else to be. There’s no shame in it,” he whispered. 

 

She worked to swallow the lump in her throat, and looked down at her lap. “I know I’m broken.” 

 

His fingers caught under her chin and lifted it. “You’re beautiful, Dany, not broken. I don’t mean the way you look, even though you most certainly are,” he said with a small smile. “I mean here.” He trailed one fingertip down her neck before pointing at her heart. “You’re complicated and beautiful, like a pretty necklace all tangled up. You fascinate me. I want to pull apart all your knots, see and know every part of you, even the scars you have. Especially them.” 

 

She stared at him, speechless for several seconds before she found her voice. “Why would you—?” 

 

He put a finger over her lips. “Because it’s all part of what made you who you are. All of it made you strong." He sat back, face in a frown. "Do you even realize how strong you are?” he asked. He didn't let her answer. “You’re stronger than anyone I know. I seriously doubt I would’ve survived what you have. Despite all you’ve been through, you’re still here and your heart's pure, Dany. Whether that’s who you’ve always been, or because of all you’ve suffered, it’s amazing. You’re amazing. You may have a few cracks, but last I checked, everyone does." He reached back up and slid his hand over her cheek, fingers slipping into her hair, thumb running across her cheekbone. "Building things like I do, I know a secret about cracks. Know what it is?"

 

She shook her head. "No."

 

"They can be filled." 

 

His words rushed through her, taking her breath and she was left trembling like a leaf in a sudden summer wind. He must've seen something on her face because he tried to kiss it away, his lips pressing over her wrinkled brow, before resting his own against it.

 

“You've told me time and again I saved you," he whispered, shaking his head. "I didn’t save you, Dany. You didn’t need saving. You had already saved yourself before I ever met you." He pulled away just enough to look into her eyes. "I don’t need to be your hero," he said, rough and low as a storm brewing. "I just want to be with you. Not this avoidance thing we’ve been doing all week, though. I’m sorry for my part in that, by the way.” 

 

She managed a small smile. “Me, too.” 

 

He smiled back, and looked down at the ends of her hair while he played with them. “I know I’m not much, but you don’t have to be alone anymore. Not if you don’t want to. I know we’ve spent the last two weeks together, but you still don’t know me that well, but I want you to,” he said, the slight nervous edge squeezing her heart.

 

“I want to know you, Jon. It terrifies me, but God help me, I do,” she admitted, her own voice quivering too. Where her sudden dose of bravery came from she'd never know, but she was glad it showed up, because his face lit up with the most precious smile before he leaned close, and kissed her softly on the lips. Even though her heart was threatening to pound its way through her chest, she kissed him back, pressing her lips firmly against his.

 

She'd never experienced a kiss any sweeter. His warm lips slow and tender as they explored hers, softly grazing and pulling at her eager ones while his hand was buried in the hair gently holding her in place. It was a kiss of beginnings, a glimpse of what could be, a promise of more.

 

Right before she opened her mouth to kiss him deeper, he pulled away breathing hard, forehead leaned against hers again. She almost whimpered, but controlled herself. 

 

“I want to be with you," he whispered, "not fix you or save you. Maybe be there to help ease some of the pain. Like you’re doing for me." He pulled away, his gaze dark and drowning. "How does that sound?” 

 

She reached up and rubbed her thumb across his cheek, smiling at him. “Like the best idea I've heard in a long, long time.”

 

The curve of his smile slid right into her heart. He gave her another kiss, soft, but quick. “We’re gonna do this at your pace, okay? I’m handing the reins over to you, but I want you to know I’m not going anywhere. I haven't seen anything that would make me want to walk away from whatever this is between us. I know I haven't acted much like it, but I’m a patient man, I don’t mind waiting for you. However long you need."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

She tucked herself back under his chin, the feel of her against again after a week of torment, heaven. But her silence was deafening.

 

He waited out her hesitation with the patience he promised her though. She was doing things to him he had never experienced. Everything about her was a paradox, including his reactions to her; nothing but constant contradictions– wonderful highs, mixed with heartbreaking lows.

 

Her heart was huge, but it was full of so much pain. She was incredibly strong, yet incredibly fragile, too. She reminded him of a beautiful little hummingbird. Every time you see it come near, you want a closer look, but it was so tiny and skittish it would vanish from sight the moment you got too close, fearing you meant it harm. He could touch her, but not too much. He could look at her, but not the way he wanted to. He could talk to her, but couldn't ask what he wanted to know most. 

 

He needed her close, but that need was clouded with worry and doubt, for both of them. Her feelings for him were covered by a fog, like the ones that float above dark and twisting lonely roads. He could easily tell she didn’t trust them, or his for that matter, and she was deathly afraid of risking her heart again. 

 

_ Who could blame her, with all the people she’d lost? _

 

That didn’t deter him though. He wanted to break through her walls even more. 

 

He thought being stuck in bed with all the pain was enough to drive him mad, but adding insane levels of emotional and sexual tension on top of them? Maddening and immensely frustrating was the only way he knew how to describe it. 

 

One minute he felt like he'd lost his mind for wanting her so intensely so soon, the next he thought he'd go crazy if he didn’t have her as a permanent fixture in his life right then. No woman had ever tied him up so tight before. It was probably a good thing he was damaged at the moment, because if he wasn’t he would have embarrassed himself beyond repair, or scared her so bad she would’ve run away screaming.

 

_ It scared him to even think about it. _

 

He never thought he’d be thankful about getting shot, but it helped keep him somewhat in control where she was concerned. Not only did it pave the way for her to come into his life, but it was allowing him to take things at a speed he normally wouldn’t have. A speed she desperately needed to move at.

 

The way they met was beyond screwed up. If they lasted it would certainly be a story to tell their grandchildren, that was for sure. It was one that would be told for generations.

 

_ Did he seriously just imagine them having grandchildren?  _

 

That right there was what he meant. His feelings for her had hit him like a tsunami, and washed him all the way to growing old with her. They'd known each other all of two weeks. Fourteen damn days, and he'd already fallen so far, he was like Alice landing with a thump at the bottom of the rabbit hole.

 

Call him Jon in Danyland, or if you'd like a more modern spin on things, it was like being put in some chick flick as the romantic lead, and forced to feel everything at breakneck speed so their happily ever after could be reached before the movie ended in an hour and a half.

 

His head was certainly spinning, but it was always pictures or thoughts of her that spun around with it. Very little of his past mixed with her either. Their future was front and center in his mind.

 

He had no clue his life was going to irrevocably change the moment he walked into that Starbucks. Getting shot was not something he ever thought would happen to him. He was certain it was going to be a rather large dip in the road of his life, but meeting Dany was where the big changes had originated from. Surprisingly, he was content with those changes, and even looking forward to more. As long as she was a part of them.

 

“Thank you,” she said, breaking her silence, her quiet voice reaching his ears. 

 

He waited for her to say more, still running his fingers through her silky hair, but when she didn’t, he decided he better. “Whatever it is you’re thanking me for, it isn’t necessary.” 

 

She sat up, and looked at him with red puffy eyes full of pain, but they were shining with determination, too, giving him another view of the enigma she was. It broke his heart as always.

 

“It  _ is _ necessary, Jon,” she protested softly, lowering her eyes to her lap. “You have no idea how much I’ve needed to hear the things you just said. I didn’t even know how much I needed them.” She looked up again. “So, thank you. For them, and for everything else you’ve done for me in the last two weeks,” she said, cupping one of his cheeks and giving a soft kiss to the other. 

 

He stopped her from going too far, sliding his hand around the side of her neck, and pressed one to her cheek. Rubbing his thumb over the spot his lips just left, he stared into her eyes. “I could say the same, you know?” 

 

She shook her head and laid her hand over his, pulling it away enough to kiss his palm. “No. You couldn't. We won’t be even for a very long time, if ever.” He started to argue, but she put a finger over his lips. “Nope. Next subject,” she said, then snuggled back into his side. 

 

He huffed with amusement, but saw no need to stir that pot. He'd stir a different one instead. “I was thinking, maybe we should stay at your place instead of mine.” 

 

She craned her neck back to look up at him, her brows furrowed. “Why? I thought you wanted to go home to your house?” 

 

He knew the thought of them going to his house caused her to have an attack that morning. While he really didn’t think it was his house that did it–more than likely it was the fear of them being totally alone– he wanted her to be as comfortable as possible. So, he'd paint it as a better fit for him and his recovery, which he guessed if he really think about, it was.

 

“I miss home, but you and I both know the stairs are going to be too much for me to handle. I’ll be stuck to one floor. My shop will be calling to me constantly, and it’ll make me really cranky that I can't get down there. Same for my bed. Maybe if I’m away from the temptation it won’t be so hard to cope with.” 

 

“Robb told you he could get the chair on your staircase if you wanted.” 

 

“Dany, I don’t think you realize how much I love that staircase. It’s over a hundred years old. It’d be a sin to mar it in any way. It makes my neck tight just thinking about it. Besides, that would only get me to my bedroom, not my shop.” 

 

_ That part of his argument was most definitely true. Nobody was screwing with his staircase. _

 

“Well, if my place is where you want to go, that’s fine with me, but it isn’t near as nice as yours. It hasn’t been updated since the seventies, and there are still stairs you’ll have to deal with to get in. The tubs are clawfoot and the beds are lumpy,” she warned him.

 

_ Damn, he was hoping there was only one bed there. Oh, well. _

 

“I don’t care about it being old. Robb can roll me up the stairs in the wheelchair. I can sleep anywhere, and I’ll need a chair to sit on in the tub anyway. I’m still way too unsteady to stand up that long. Falling in the shower would not be a good idea right now,” he pointed out, trying to tip the scales a little more to his side.

 

“What about your therapy, Ghost, and Arya coming?” she said, trying one more time to dissuade him.

 

He was beginning to think she did want to stay at his place _. Maybe he read her wrong.  _

 

“Where do you want us to go? Where would you be most comfortable?” he asked, not wanting to make a mistake and screw things up from the get go. She needed to feel safe and at ease.

 

“Jon, this isn’t about my comfort. I’m not the one recuperating, you are. I’ll go wherever’s best for you. We just need to figure out where that is, so answer my question,” she prodded him. 

 

He let out a sigh. 

 

_ Stubborn woman always wanted to put him first _ . 

 

“Jake said he can get a PT to come to me, and if you’re okay with it, Ghost can stay with us. He’s housebroken. If not, Gen won’t mind keeping him. Arya will be fine at my house. She always stays with me when she’s in town,” he said, hoping that was the end of the arguments.

 

“Did the docs say when you’re getting outta here?”

 

“Tuesday afternoon is the plan. I need a few more days to come off the morphine, and they’re taking out all my stitches and staples Monday.” 

 

She sat back up, and looked at him with her beautiful face all scrunched up. “Ouch!”

 

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. I’m not looking forward to it.”

 

“I’ll stay and hold your hand till it’s over,” she said, smiling sweetly. 

 

He laughed a little and kissed her temple. “Thank you.”

 

“Well, I had better get the house in order, and get some groceries then.” 

 

“You’re okay with it?” he asked, to be sure, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I never really asked, I sort of invited myself. Sorry.”

 

She shrugged. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine with it. It’s only a house to me. It’s almost as new to me as it will be to you. Until two weeks ago I’d only stayed there one other time. I think you’ll like the view from the back porch, the marshes are beautiful when the tide’s up,” she told him.

 

“You’re sure? We can do my house if you’d rather,” he backtracked a bit.

 

“I’m sure. I promise,” she answered with her smile still in place.

 

“All right, if you’re sure, thank you. I bet it’ll be a nice peaceful place to get back to normal in.” 

 

He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers. He'd really rather kiss her perfect lips again, but he'd pushed her enough for one day.

 


	12. It's easier to pine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is finally released from the hospital and they settle in for their first evening at Dany's house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is late. I was struggling with rewrites, things need to take a turn from the original from here and I couldn't decide how or when, but I think I've got it figured out now. I am going to spread out the updates for awhile though, probably somewhere around every ten days to two weeks. Updating two fics a week is A LOT for my perfectionist arse and I am finding my time for anything else very short. My house y'all, it's a WRECK! I'll be keeping my nephew all next week and then going on vacation for a week after that so things are going to be busy for me for a bit, but I promise to do my absolute best for y'all and update as often as possible. Thank you all for loving these broken beans as much as I do and for your patience! 
> 
> Big love and thanks to my bestie Ash for holding my hand with this and going over it several times for me. I love you, boo!

  


It's easier to pine 

To pine 

But 

I can feel it 

Through the fields of graves 

A beating heart 

While 

Rolling hills are 

Roaming through my veins 

And open arms 

And all is full of smoke

 

Ah pining

 

The words you speak 

Stir things in me that I thought 

Were gone 

Their faint white heat 

Melts centuries 

Deep in 

Frost

 

I can feel it 

Through the fields of graves 

A beating heart 

While 

Rolling hills are 

Roaming through my veins 

And open arms 

And all is full of 

Hope

 

Ah pining

 

Pinesong - A Fine Frenzy

  
  
  


Freedom day had finally arrived. In a few hours he and Dany would be leaving the hell he'd been trapped in for weeks. He hoped to never grace one of its beds again. 

 

She would be there soon, along with Robb. Him to help get him moved, and her so the docs could go over everything with them before they left. She’d been in a tizzy since they'd made the decision to go to her place. He'd hardly seen her the last few days. Kept telling her to stop worrying about the house, but so far she hadn’t listened to him. Eventually, he resolved to just let her do her thing.

 

Living with three women for a good portion of his life he knew not to get in the way of a woman on a mission. It was a sure-fire way to get your ass chewed out.

 

He was just sitting and waiting since his nurse, Miss Nettie, had helped him take a shower, and get dressed earlier that morning. Neither of which was fun. She scrubbed his damaged body a bit too hard for his liking and she didn’t take any whining about his ‘delicate sensibilities’ as she called them either. 

 

She told him the first time she helped him take one that her,  _ ‘big, black, fifty-five year old ass wasn't interested in his lily-white one. He was ten shades too light for her. And he was too little for her even if he had one of the best booties she'd ever seen, so he needed to get over himself’ _ . He was more red than lily-white during that experience. Whether from embarrassment or holding in laughter, he wasn't sure. 

 

They had become pros at in the past week, so they got through the routine that morning without any fuss. Having most of his stitches and staples out certainly helped.

 

It was going to be Dany helping him from then on, and he already knew that was going to be painfully sweet torture. He would have to keep a constant stream of dead puppies floating through his head for the next several weeks.

 

_ Speaking of sweet torture. _

 

Dany had just walked in– wearing her nervous smile. She had several different smiles, but that one always broke his heart the most. “Hey, you. You all ready to go?” 

 

“Couldn’t be more ready if you paid me,” he answered, giving a soft grin as she came over and kissed his cheek. She’d gotten into the habit since their talk the other day. While he wouldn't want her to stop, he was ready for it to be his lips she kissed every time she saw him.

 

_ Patience, Jon. Patience. _

 

“I bet not,” she said absent-mindedly while taking in all his bags on the floor. There were four so far. “What’s all of this?” she asked, bending over to see for herself, and giving him a lovely view of her ass in the shorts she was wearing. They were little blue jean cutoffs, and they fit her like a glove– a very short, tight glove.

 

_ Dead puppies, dead puppies, dead puppies. _

 

“Jon?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Earth to Jon.”

 

_ Shit. Time for evasive maneuvers _ . 

 

He threw her his biggest smile. “Sorry. I blanked out there for a sec. Did you say something?” 

 

She smiled back sweetly and asked again about the bags. 

 

_ Crisis averted. _

 

Not long after that Margaery and Gilly stopped in to tell them bye. Margaery had visited him a few times, but they hadn’t seen Gilly since leaving the ICU. She and Dany talked about how things were going with her and Sam while Margaery chatted with him. She asked twice when Robb would be there.

 

He was glad to be leaving, but he'd miss seeing her. Maybe if his cousin played his cards right, they'd all see more of her.

 

They didn’t get to stay long, the doctors came in to go over his meds and such, along with the discharge nurse. He and Dany hugged them bye, and thanked them a few dozen times before they made it out the door. Dany wasn’t able to keep all her tears contained, she and Margaery had gotten pretty close while they were up there.

 

It took a good thirty minutes to finish with Dr. Mason and Dr. Luwin. Appointments were set up already to see them both in ten days. The PT would be coming out to Dany’s to start working with him later in the week, and they had enough aftercare instructions to make a small book. He honestly didn’t know who was more nervous, him or Dany. After listening to the doctors explain everything it began to sink in how tough the next few weeks would be, pain wise for him, and a lot of hard work for Dany.

 

Next thing he knew they were all finished signing papers, and it was time to blow the joint. Robb came in right after the doctors left, and had already headed down to load all his stuff and pull the truck around for them. The orderly helped him get in the wheelchair and a short ride through the halls and a trip down the elevator later, they were rolling up to Dany’s black Tahoe as Robb pulled it over to the curb. 

 

Jon slipped his hand into hers, and gave it a squeeze as he looked up at her with a small smile. “Last chance to back out. You sure you still wanna take care of my temporarily useless ass for the next two months? I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t,” he told her sincerely. 

 

He probably should’ve kept his mouth shut, the poor thing had been fighting back her panic for days, but he wanted her to know one more time that he didn’t expect her to take care of him. She’d done more than enough already in his book. Her life had been too hard as it was, he hated the thought of being the reason it could continue to be. 

 

She rolled her eyes at him, feigning exasperation, but he didn’t miss the fear she swallowed down, or the tremble he could feel in her hand within his. “I’m not having this conversation again, mister. You’re beating a dead horse, and if you don’t get in that truck and hush, I’ll be beating you,” she sassed, doing her best to hide the shake in her voice. She was not fooling him a bit.  

 

His honor rose up and he came within a breath of calling her bluff, but he couldn’t do it. No more than any of the other countless times he almost had. It would mean not seeing her every day, or maybe not ever again, and he couldn’t bring himself to risk that. It was completely selfish, probably the most selfish thing he'd ever done, but he needed to be near her. 

 

He squeezed her hand again, and conceded to her orders with a wink. “Okay, Miss Stubborn, I’ll get in the truck.”

 

Thankfully, Robb was standing there to help him in. It was a slow painful process, but they got it done. Once he was settled, Dany went around and hopped in the driver’s seat, then got him buckled. He couldn’t help but lean over, close his eyes, and breathe in the sweet smell of her hair as it brushed by his face.

 

_ God, she smelled good. _

 

When he opened his eyes she was looking at him with a mix of humor and confusion. “Did you just smell me, Jon Snow?”

 

_ Oops. Might as well fess up. _

 

“I did, and I’m not sorry either. You smell amazing,” he told her without an ounce of regret. He might have put too much heat in his voice though. She was blushing like a thirteen year old. 

 

She squeaked out a 'thank you' before turning quickly and buckling herself up. Her blush only got brighter when she saw Robb grinning at her through her window. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath before rolling it down. 

 

“Hello, Robb,” she said politely, despite her embarrassment. 

 

He chuckled at her. “Hey, Dany. What’s got you so rosy?” he asked, with a big grin still plastered on his face.

 

“Shut up,” she muttered, making him laugh all the more. She huffed and rolled her eyes. “We need to go by the pharmacy before we go to the house, can you lead the way, please?” she asked, her manners back in place.

 

“Sure thing.” He looked over at Jon. “Which one?” 

 

“The Walgreens off eighty.”

 

“Gotcha. I’ll meet y’all at the entrance, and you can follow me from there, alright?”

 

“Okie doke,” Dany chirped, then drove them over to the entrance to wait on him. Once she got the truck parked though, she sat fidgeting, one hand on the steering wheel, fingers clenching and unclenching, the other at her mouth, teeth biting at her nails all while she stared out the window with wide unseeing eyes. 

 

Jon decided he better apologize for his flirting. He'd only made things worse for her.

 

“I’m sorry, Dany. I shouldn’t have…” 

 

She spun her head around to look his way. “No, don’t apologize," she rushed out, then stopped, looking down at her lap. "It was sweet, it's just been a long time, you know? There was never anyone else but him, and then,” she shrugged her shoulders, eyes everywhere but on him, “Well, then it was only me and the ghosts,” she finished with a whisper.

 

_ Damnit, there is no right way to respond to that one. _

 

As he attempted to try, Robb pulled up and honked his horn, making both of them jump. Jon let out a groan, his bones aching from the jolt. “Shithead," he hissed, throwing Robb a dirty look. His cousin had the heart to look guilty. But still. "When it won’t hurt like a bitch I’m gonna give him a few licks for that.” 

 

“You okay?” Dany asked, her brows all furrowed with worry.

 

“I’m alright, just gonna do my best not to jump out of my skin anymore. You better go, he’ll leave you behind if you don’t. He’s not good at leading a pack,” he told her with a forced grin.

 

It took a bit to get to the pharmacy because they somehow caught every red light between the hospital and there. Jon felt every bump in the road, and all the breaking and accelerating, too. He was really missing the morphine, or any pain killer for that matter. He'd been a dumbass and pocketed his meds instead of taking them earlier.

 

_ Idiot, thy name is Jon. _

 

He was greatly regretting being that idiot. Dany had been quiet, concentrating on her driving, and he'd been doing his best not to let her hear his moans and groans. As easy as she pulled into the parking lot and stopped, he had a feeling he wasn't hiding it as well as he thought. She turned on a classic rock station on the radio and grabbed her purse. 

 

“Will you be alright while I run in and get your meds?” 

 

He managed a grin. “Sure thing.” She shot him a hesitant look. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Robb's right there if I need him,” he assured her, pointing to his cousin's truck where he'd parked two spots down from them.

 

She paused to give him her ‘stern mama’ glare, but still got out and went inside. He gently laid his throbbing head back against the seat, and tried to concentrate on anything other than the pain. He was failing miserably though. 

 

Her truck was super nice, but he would swear the seats were made of concrete if he didn’t know better. His body was protesting its current circumstances with vigor. It wanted to be lying in a soft bed, not pressed against a rock-hard seat. 

 

Lord willing, she'd be back with some pain meds soon.

 

A knock sounded and he opened his eyes to see Robb round the hood of the truck. He climbed in the driver’s side. “You makin’ it, man?” he asked, “You’re looking a little pale.”

 

“Hurting like hell, is all. I didn’t take any painkillers before we left.”

 

“Damn, Jon. That was stupid as shit.” Jon gave him the finger for his trouble. He huffed. “That’s what she’s in there getting, right?”

 

“Yeah, and antibiotics and some migraine stuff, too, I think. I hope anyway. My head feels like it's full of ice picks right now.” He'd never had headaches come on as fast as the damn things did. He didn’t have one ten minutes ago, and now it was pushing a seven or eight on the pain scale chart that had hung in his hospital room. 

 

Dr. Tarth told him they should go away with time. He sure as hell hoped that time was real fucking soon. He definitely had sympathy for people who had them all the time. He couldn’t imagine dealing with so much pain on such a regular basis.

 

"You two gonna be alright?" Robb asked carefully. He'd kept his voice low, but it was still too loud to suit Jon. Or maybe it was the question itself. 

 

"Not you too," he grumbled.

 

"What?"

 

He slowly rolled his head toward him and gave him a perturbed glare. "How about you and Margaery, huh?" he prodded. "You answer that and maybe I'll answer yours."

 

Robb's ears went red, his face pinching up with irritation. "Nevermind," he muttered.

 

"That's what I thought." He wanted to laugh, but he knew better, his head would punish him for it.

 

They didn't bother with anymore conversation, letting Lynyrd Skynyrd and Steve Miller fill the void until he spotted Dany walking back toward the truck with several little white paper bags in her hands, and a bigger plastic one, too. 

 

_ Hallelujah. _

 

Robb jumped out and held the door for her. “He needs something for his head if they gave him anything,” he told her as she climbed in.

 

“They did, and I got you a snack, and some water to take it with, too,” she said already pulling stuff out of the bags. She handed him a protein bar. “Eat that before your nausea gets too bad, and here’s a water.” Opening it for him, she handed it over. “Once you get that down I’ll give you one of these,” she said, shaking a pill bottle.

 

“You’re an angel. Thank you,” he whispered.

 

\---

 

The ride to her place was only another fifteen minutes,  _ thank God. _ He was more than ready to be in a bed. The house was pretty much exactly what he expected– an old coastal beauty set high off the ground, wrapped with big shady porches. Where it was sitting was even prettier than the house. The driveway was lined with huge, stately live oaks dripping with airy Spanish moss. Depending on the time of day he was sure it would be spooky looking to some, but with the sunlight streaming through the trees it was a picture straight out of a travel magazine.

 

“This is a gorgeous place, Dany.”

 

“Yeah, I always thought so, too,” she said quietly as she stared forward, melancholic. He couldn’t help but feel a stab of regret for choosing her place for his recovery. She was haunted here, she might not have been at his house. She shook herself out of it, and looked over at him with a small smile. “You ready to get inside?”

 

“Yeah, probably should,” he said, trying to smile back. He was sure it looked more like a wince. The pain pill hadn’t come close to kicking in yet, and as bad as he wanted inside, he was dreading the process of getting there. It looked like there was at least a dozen steps Robb was gonna have to roll him up.

 

_ He was not gonna enjoy that. _

 

But Robb was already waiting by his door with the wheelchair, so it was time to get it over with. 

 

Getting out wasn't so bad, but the whole ride to the steps, Jon was seriously thinking about asking Robb to knock his ass out so he could skip to waking up in a bed. In spite of, or maybe because of the protein bar Dany had given him, his nausea was coming on fast. The jostling and added pain that rolling toward the house created wasn’t helping. 

 

Dany noticed and stopped them with a gentle hand to his shoulder right before Robb started to pull him up the first step. “You need a minute?” 

 

He closed his eyes and nodded a little, taking a few deep breaths hoping to work through the queasiness and pain. Dany proved once again she really was an angel, placing an ice pack on the back of his neck while lightly running her fingers through his hair. He didn’t know where she got it from, but he was gonna kiss her for it as soon as he was able.

 

After a couple of minutes, he let them know he was ready to go again, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. Slow and gentle, Robb pulled him up the first step. He kept his eyes closed, and kept taking deep breaths as they went. Dany stayed right with them, still holding the ice pack to his neck. He didn’t know how long it took them–it felt like hours–but finally they got to the top, all of them sighing when they did.

 

He was ready to puke his guts up. 

 

Robb tried to pull him into the house, but Jon had to wave him off. He leaned over as much as he could, reaching back for the ice pack to put on his forehead to stave off the surge of nausea. Of course, Dany beat him to it, placing it there as if she'd read his mind.

 

But they were two seconds too late. Unable to hold back anymore, he threw up all over himself, and the porch. 

 

_ Lovely. _

 

The next several minutes were a blur of pain, more nausea, and the heavy fog of his pain killer kicking in. He knew Dany cleaned him up as well as she could without changing his clothes, and Robb got him inside and to a bedroom. They both worked to get him changed. He was completely useless in that endeavor, being so loopy, but they somehow managed to get him into a new pair of shorts before getting him settled in the bed. 

 

He watched through hazy eyes as Dany pulled the curtains closed, then walked back over to him. “I’m sorry I puked on your porch,” he mumbled when she got close. She smiled at him and rubbed the back of her fingers over his cheek before adjusting the ice pack on his head. 

 

“I already told you not to worry about it, sweetie. I’m just sorry you got sick at all. Go to sleep now, okay? I’ll be right here when you wake up,” she whispered, leaning down and kissing his forehead.

 

“Stay with me. ‘Til I fall asleep,” he asked, patting the covers on his right side.

 

“Alright, but let me tell Robb bye first. He has to get back to work.” 

 

“Okay,” he whispered as his eyes closed. The bed moved, and he looked for her only to find she was already lying beside him. He smiled, and reached for her hand. “You came back.” 

 

“Of course, I did, silly,” she said, with a big smile of her own as she laced her fingers with his. 

 

He stared at her, his eyes getting heavier with each passing second. She was so beautiful. He wanted her smiling face to be the last thing he saw every night, and the first one he'd see every morning.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Poor Jon had not had the best day, but he was so adorable when he was medicated. Like a little boy with his heart in his eyes. She couldn’t help but smile as she laid there watching him fight sleep.

 

“You’re so beautiful, Dany. I love your smile,” he whispered, his heavy eyelids finally closing. “I hope I can always make you smile, so I can see it every day and night for the rest of my life.” 

 

She froze, feeling his words reach into her chest and squeeze her heart. Laying in bed with this beautiful man and holding his hand as he said sweet things to her was too much. It terrified her how desperately she wanted them to be true, and of the hope they dared her to have.

 

_ Hope. _

 

That had been a foreign word to her for years now. One she lost all faith in, and refused to even acknowledge existed in her world anymore, but Jon was forcing her to see that it was still there. Just because she didn’t want to feel it, didn’t mean it wasn’t still a part of her. She had to acknowledge it now, because it was crawling its way out of the darkness inside of her, refusing to let her hide anymore, but of course her panic was fighting back.

 

She couldn’t be there with him right then, it hurt too much to look at his beautiful face. It was too scary to feel those things for him, to know he might feel the same for her. Carefully, she pulled her fingers free from his hand and got off the bed, hurrying out the door as quietly as she could. 

 

Rushing out onto the back porch she breathed in great gulps of salty air– _ in through the nose, out through mouth _ –hoping to calm her racing heart. She'd been fighting to keep the attacks at bay for the last several days, but it seemed there was no stopping this one. 

 

Pacing up and down the porch, counting her steps as she went, did nothing to sway it. When her breathing got so out of control her vision began to go black and starry, she curled up on the lounger and gave into the terror. Let it consume her. The only way she was getting over it was to go through it, and come out the other side.

 

It might have lasted only minutes or possibly much longer, but the fear slowly began to let her go. Leaving her bones first, draining from her muscles, heart slowing, sweat covered skin cooling, vision clearing, and she returned to the land of the living. The sun was still relatively high in the sky, and the tides were only beginning to come back in. She must not have been down long.

 

_ Oh, God! Jon! _

 

She scrambled back into the house to check on him, but she worried for nothing. He was still out cold, snoozing away. She ignored the clenching in her heart at seeing him, like she had every other time her eyes landed on him. She was too afraid to think about what it meant. She shuffled back to her bedroom, and collapsed onto the bed with a giant sigh. 

 

_ How in the ever-loving hell was she gonna make it through the next couple of months like this? _

 

She knew she had not a single clue how to answer that, but she knew someone who might. She needed Missy. She found her phone and dialed her.  

 

“Dany! How are you? It's so good to hear from you,” she gushed enthusiastically.

 

“Hi, Missy. How are you?” she replied, with decidedly less enthusiasm.

 

“I’m well, but I can tell you aren't. Tell me.” 

 

“Jon was released from the hospital today.”

 

“That’s wonderful news. Why would that have you out of sorts?”

 

“I brought him to my place. We’ll be staying here together. Alone. For at least two months,” she told her, not hiding her nervousness.

 

“Oh. 

 

"Yeah,  _ oh." _

 

"You’re worried about feeling something for him, aren’t you?” 

 

She took a deep shaky breath, spearing her trembling lip with her teeth before answering. “I think I already have, and I think he has for me, too. It terrifies me, Missy.”

 

“I understand that. I felt the same when I met Grey."

 

“Yeah, but you weren't a wreck like me. I feel like I’m stuck together with kiddie glue and tape. I know if the least little thing happens, I’ll fall to pieces. If I do, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put them back together again. If I let myself feel anything for him, and it doesn’t work out… It’ll be the end of me, Missy. I can’t survive another heartbreak. I can’t,” she finished with a choked whisper, wiping away a traitorous tear.

 

“Dany, love, just because things have gone wrong in the past, doesn’t mean they will again. You can't keep living in fear, or the past. And besides, you could leave Savannah right now, and it wouldn’t change what you feel for him, and you do feel something for him, Dany, you know you do,” she said gently.

 

_ She did. God help her, she did. _

 

“Be honest with me, and yourself, too," Missy went on, "There's a part of you that truly wants to feel things for Jon, isn’t there?”

 

It took her a minute to find the courage to answer that, but when she did she couldn’t stop the words that seemed hell-bent on being voiced. “Yes. A bigger part than I care to admit. I want to be the reason he smiles. I want the comfort he's so willing to give me, just like I can’t help but give him. I want to laugh with him, and talk about nothing for hours just so I can listen to his voice. I want to touch him, and I want to feel his hands on me. I want to kiss him, and be kissed by him. I want so badly to be loved by him, but I’m so afraid of loving him in return. So afraid if I do that he’ll be taken from me like the rest of them were.”

 

Missy stayed quiet for several long moments, giving her time to absorb her own words, to accept them, and what they meant, she guessed. She was definitely beginning to, now that she'd said them out loud, but that didn’t mean her demons didn’t want to put in their two cents worth.

 

“I feel all of that, Missy, want all of that, but you and I both know what happens to the people I love. Not to mention the guilt I’m feeling.” 

 

“Dany, I know your past is a huge weight you feel you have to carry around, but it doesn’t have to be. You love me and Grey and we're still here. Think about this, if you refuse to let yourself fall in love again because you're worried you’ll lose him, then you’re also refusing to let yourself be happy, and in turn him, too. You can’t keep sadness away without keeping happiness away at the same time. Running away from your feelings will only bring sadness to  _ both _ of you. As for the guilt, how many times have we been over that? You need to forgive yourself, you deserve to be happy,” she said with assurance. 

 

As usual, Dany didn’t have the words to respond to that.

 

“Can you tell me anything about what Jon's feeling?” she asked. “Have the two of you discussed your past, or your feelings for each other at all?”

 

“He told me today I had a beautiful smile, and he hoped he could always make me smile because he wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life,” she blurted out, not able to keep all the giddiness contained.

 

“He sounds wonderfully sweet.”

 

“He is, Missy. He’s so gentle with me, and so patient, but he was high on painkillers and mostly asleep when he said that, so I’m not sure I can put much stock in those words. Talking about watching me smile for the rest of his life is a huge leap from where we are right now,” she muttered.

 

“What else has he said when he wasn’t on pain killers then?” 

 

She spent the next few minutes telling her about Jon’s little speech a few days before, and all the sweet things he said. 

 

Missandei was quiet for a minute after Dany finished, then cleared her throat. “Dany, I’m going to say something and you better listen to me, okay?”

 

“Okay?”

 

“If you dare let that man slip through your fingers because you’re scared or stubborn, I’m gonna beat your tail. Do you hear me?” she threatened almost as good as her mama used to.

 

“What?” she asked, better words failing her. She couldn’t believe she said that, it was so not like her.

 

“You heard me, Dany. Jon's right, you didn’t need him to save you, and you don’t need him to make you whole or complete you. From what you’ve just told me, he doesn’t see a broken person or a wounded soul. He loves you, cracks and all,” she finished softly.

 

“ _ Loves me? _ ” she protested, “Missy, Jon doesn’t love me. It's way too soon for that. I do think he cares for me, but love is pushing it.”

 

“Whether you believe I’m right or not–which I am by the way–I want you to think about what I said. Long and hard, Dany. Promise me that,” she demanded sternly.

 

“All right, I will. I promise,” she quickly assured her. 

 

_ She'd never heard her use that tone of voice. It was kind of scary. _

 

“Good, and remember, if you run from the fear of sadness, you’ll be running from the joy, too,” she said then the line went dead. 

 

Dany pulled the phone away from her face, and stared at it as if it could tell her what on earth had just gotten into her friend. That was the oddest conversation she'd ever had with her. It almost made her wonder if she was channeling her mom, or maybe even Miss Naomi. It was certainly very similar to the many lectures she got from them growing up. 

 

“Dany?” Jon called out. 

 

“Be right there,” she told him as she rolled off the bed, and slipped down the hall, making sure she had a smile on her face before she walked into his room. “Hey. You feeling any better?” she asked, probably a little too cheerfully. 

 

She faltered at the sight of him. He had pushed himself up against the headboard of the bed and almost every inch of his gloriously naked torso was on display. They never did manage to get a shirt on him earlier. His left arm being in a sling was only hiding a small amount from her eager eyes. Making things even worse, he had a very sexy case of bed head, and an adorable lopsided grin on his perfect face.

 

_ He was trying to kill her, she just knew it. _

 

“I am,” he said, smiling brightly.

 

_ She knew it. _

 

“Thanks to you for taking such good care of me,” he finished, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on her.

 

_ Oh, guess they weren't talking about the same thing. _

 

“No problem, that’s my job,” she chirped.

 

He cocked his head and scratched at his beard. His nervous tell. “Umm, can I ask you something?” 

 

“Mmm hmm.” 

 

“I thought you told me this place was old and dated. It sure doesn’t look like it to me, at least not this room. This bed I’m on is very familiar, too. I’m afraid to ask, but is this what you’ve been up to the last few days?” 

 

Grimacing, she ducked her head. “You caught me, but the bed is just similar to yours. It's not your actual bed from home," she rushed out. "I went to your place and checked yours, and looked to see what kind of mattress you used. I wanted you to be able to rest, and for it to feel as much like home as possible for you,” she explained, nerves in knots, worried he wouldn't be happy with her highhandedness.

 

“Dany,” he scolded.

 

_ Shit. She did screw up.  _

 

She'd only wanted him to be comfortable. She didn’t think she could handle him being mad at her right then. She could already feel herself wilting like a flower.

 

“Come here,” he asked, well no, maybe more like ordered. She couldn’t do anything other than chew her lip and look at the floor. “Please come sit with me. I’m not angry, I promise,” he tried to assure her while patting the bed beside him. 

 

Missy's words about running away floated through her head, giving her the push she needed. She perched herself at the foot of the bed.

 

“Will you sit here, please?” he asked, pointing a finger into the mattress right beside his hip. 

 

She had to look away and swallow down the knot in her throat. The thought of being so close to his naked chest causing all sorts of chaos to her insides. 

 

_ She could do this, she could be brave, and sit beside him. He wasn't going to bite her. And she wouldn't hurt him either. _

 

She stood back up, and took the few steps needed to get to where he wanted her, then sat down again. Still pretending to be brave, she brought her eyes up to his instead of looking at her lap like she wanted to. 

 

A small sweet smile tugging up one corner of his mouth, he reached out and took her left hand in his, pulling it up to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Thank you. You did not need to do this for me, I really appreciate it though,” he said, tugging her closer to him. Close enough she wound up laying against his side with her head on his shoulder, while his arm wrapped around her, his hand playing in her hair. She melted into him, not able to hold onto her doubts and fears with him being so warm and gentle. “You’re a beautiful person, Dany. I wonder if you have any idea what you’re doing to me,” he whispered so quietly she almost missed it.

 

_ She should be saying those words to him _ .

 

“I can’t believe you went to all this trouble for me. I absolutely did not want to add to your workload by choosing to come here,” he said, sounding guilty.

 

“You didn’t, I promise. This place needed it really bad, Jon. I swear it did. I promise I did it as much for me as I did for you,” she assured him, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. His skin was so warm and smooth under her fingers, the muscles hard in contrast. 

 

“How much did you actually update? Surely, not the whole house?” he asked, kissing the top of her head. 

 

She gently pulled out of his hold, so she could look at him again. And she didn’t want to let herself get too comfortable in his arms, she might never leave them again if she did. He frowned at her, so she took his hand in hers to maintain some contact. 

 

“I had the kitchen and guest bathroom redone, and bought new furniture for the rest of the place.”

 

“You had all of that done in five days?” he asked incredulous, throwing his eyebrows up until they came right back down with a wince of pain. 

 

_ His headache must not be completely gone. _

 

“Let me go get you a drink. I think you can have another pain killer if you need it,” she said, jumping up and heading toward the door.

 

“Dany, wait. I’m alright," he called out, stopping her in her tracks. She turned back toward him. "I don’t need another pill yet, but can you come help me up? I need to get to the bathroom, and I don’t know my way around yet.”

 

“Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. Come on, I’ll help you,” she babbled as she helped get him to his feet, and grabbed the crutch. 

 

She stayed close as he took the slow trek across the room, and out the door. He stopped for a short break, leaning against the door jamb for a few seconds, then went again, taking the remaining few steps to get to the bathroom.

 

_ God, did  he need her to pull his pants down? She'd die right there on the bathroom floor if he did. _

 

“You got this, or do you need help?” she squeaked, not daring to look up at him, her face already hot as a firecracker.

 

“I think I can handle it,” his deep voice rumbled in her ear. Her head jerked up, and all she could see was his sexy grin. 

 

“Okay, I’ll wait out here,” she managed to whisper. She heard him chuckle to himself after she closed the door behind him.

 

_ Glad one of them thought it was funny. _

 

Heading back to his room, she grabbed a shirt for him to wear. She couldn’t handle him walking around half naked. It short circuited her brain _. _ She went back to the bathroom, waiting until she heard the toilet flush, and him shuffle around a bit before leaning close to the door to check on him. “You still making it—” 

 

The door popped open, and she was greeted by his smooth, pale chest. All she could think about was how much she wanted to rub her hands all over it, as she kissed and licked her way across his skin.

 

_ God, what was this man doing to her? _

 

“How did you manage to get anyone to put in that nice of a bathroom in less than five days?” he asked, pulling her out of her X-rated thoughts.

 

“Money?” she confessed. “I’ve found out people will do anything for the right amount of money,” she told him, backing up so he could get out. He stayed right where he was, staring at her hard, his eyes flinty. “All I had were clawfoot tubs. There was no way you could get in and out of those, Jon. I called up a contractor, and told him what I needed, and how much I’d pay him to get it done by this morning. I’ve never seen a happier crew of men working around the clock in my life,” she smirked at him, hoping to get the scowl off his face. 

 

His eyebrow did a cranky twist. “How much did you pay them, Dany? I bet the bastards screwed—” He stopped abruptly at the warning scowl she gave him. “Sorry. Sorry, that was rude. It's none of my business. I’m sorry,” he apologized, hanging his head a bit.

 

“No, don’t worry about it,” she sighed. “Come on, let’s get you settled in the living room, and I’ll explain, okay?” she told him, waving him down the hall. 

 

It took several minutes, but they finally made it to the living room, covered his Adonis like body with a shirt, and got him into the recliner she'd bought him. Dr. Luwin told her he would feel more comfortable in one. He rolled his eyes at her when he saw it, but let out a satisfying sigh once he was in it and relaxed.

 

“Before you ask, the furniture in here was nothing but hideous brown and orange velvet flower pieces. They were going to the dump before we even planned on coming here, same for the bedrooms. Staying here only made it happen sooner. I needed this place to be mine, so while I rushed it for you, I was going to do it anyway, And please don’t worry about anyone scamming me. Robb helped me find some good guys, and it was my decision to pay them triple.”

 

“Triple?” he nearly shouted, jerking his head up to look at her, eyes bulging. Of course, he regretted it instantly, the wincing and groaning dead giveaways.  

 

She moved closer and ran her fingers through his hair on reflex. “Hush. There’s nothing for you to get upset about. We haven’t talked about my finances before, but I have more than enough money. I could've paid them ten times what I did, and it wouldn't have made a dent in my pocketbook.” Both his eyebrows shot back up to his hairline. She shrugged. “My in-laws were loaded when they passed, and by loaded, I mean millionaires. With my husband gone, it's all mine now.” 

 

Surprisingly his face became a mask of remorse. “I’m sorry, Dany. For everything. For your family, for putting you in this situation, for questioning you. For—”  

 

She put her finger over his full lips. “I told you to hush," she said, giving him a wink to soften the reprimand. “You have nothing to be sorry for."

 

He pulled her hand away, shaking his head, his eyes suddenly too sad for her liking. 

 

"Jon, what is it?"

 

"Can you sit for a minute?" he asked softly motioning to the arm of his chair. 

 

She did and laced her fingers with his, holding his hand in her lap. Something was up, she could feel it coming off him in waves. But she sat quietly, letting him gather his thoughts, her thumb running over the back of his hand. 

 

"I want to pay you back," he blurted suddenly, "I uh… I'm kinda loaded myself and… you shouldn't have to be shelling out dough to fix this place up for me. It was my idea to come here."

 

"I know, but I agreed and I just told you, I wanted to fix it up for me," she assured him, staying cheerful. "Both were my choice, just like every decision that's been made since I came down here has been. You didn’t ask if I wanted saving, and I didn’t ask if you wanted to be taken care of, but I think we’ve both done what we did for the right reasons, don’t you?” 

 

"Yeah, I do," he said, a deep crease forming between his brooding brow. He looked up at her again. "Will you let me pay you back?"

 

"Jon, you don't have to."

 

"I know, but… I don't use it Dany, it just sits there, has for twenty years."

 

She wanted to ask why, but it wasn't her business. Though she didn't quite understand. His house alone had to cost a fortune. She assumed his parents had left him well off when they died, but if he hadn't touched it...

 

"I hate it," he went on, almost snarling, his eyes burning black and focused somewhere else. Some place that only caused him pain. "It fucking ruined everything."

 

"The money?" she asked carefully, keeping her voice gentle. His head fell back, eyes pinched closed, his mouth in a hard line. His breathing was ratcheting up too. She squeezed his hand. "Jon, you don't have to talk about it right now. If you want to pay me back, how about we make a deal? We'll split it, okay? Half and half."

 

"No," he said, determined, opening his eyes and focusing on her again. "I need to do this.  _ Please? _ "

 

She couldn't have told him 'no' for anything in the world right then. Not with the way he was looking at her, dark eyes shining, pained and pleading. She felt his hurt as if it were her own, knew it like a bad memory that refused to disappear. "Okay," she agreed, "if that's what you want."

 

A rush of air left him and he sank back into his chair. "Thank you."

 

"You're welcome." She leaned forward and tucked some of his curls behind his ear. "Are you okay?" He gave a slow nod, his full bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He was far from okay and she ached to gather him up and hold him for an age, but she could sense that would be too much for him. She fell back on her early days at Serenity. "Do you want to talk about it, or would a distraction be better?"

 

The question threw him for a minute, maybe expecting her to either push him or dismiss him, not understand. The confusion faded from his face, gratitude taking over. "Distraction now, and maybe talk later?" he finally whispered.  

 

She nodded, unable to keep herself from pressing a hand to his scruffy cheek. "Okay, we can do that." He leaned into her touch for just a moment, eyes closed, before he pulled away and dropped his head, avoiding her gaze. She got up and grabbed the TV remote, turning it on then handing it to him. “Do you want me to stay, or… Are you hungry? I made spaghetti sauce last night. I can go ahead and fix our supper?" she offered quietly.

 

He picked his head up and some of the anxiousness had faded from his face. “Spaghetti sounds amazing,” he said. A pained smirk pulled up his full mouth. “They were trying to poison me with that hospital shit. I’d love a taste of real food.”

 

She gave him a soft smile and brushed her fingers through his hair. “I thought you might. It won’t take me long to fix. Call if you need me, okay?" she told him. "Kitchen’s right through there.” She pointed it out. 

 

He smiled up at her, sad enough she nearly scooped him into a hug, but she got herself to walk away. He wanted time and she'd give him all he needed, just as he'd done for her. Whatever it was, he would tell her when he was ready, and she'd be there for him.

  
  
  
  



	13. Tangled between your little flaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter packed full of feels, in which our broken beans worry and fret over each other and their growing feelings. Some of Jon's past comes to light and another important phone call is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi from my not so sunny spot on the beach! 
> 
> Not sure if we should consider this a week late or a day early, but I'm gonna go with early, lol. 
> 
> I hope you lot have your tissues handy, this chapter is full of feels and we finally get Jon's past brought to light. Dany also has a rough time with some things.
> 
> BIT OF A TRIGGER WARNING: Traumatic childhood, foster care, depression, and alcoholism mentioned. Please be mindful. If those things could trigger you please skip Jon's first pov section. 
> 
> And another note about Jon's past. He doesn't belong to Rhaegar, no incest in this fic, but I did take some of Rhaegar's storyline and use it for Jon's no name dad. Just for more canon tie-ins and unfortunately a man ditching one family and making a new one tends to be common, so it worked for my storyline.
> 
> This chapter hasn't been betaed so all mistakes are mine, though Ash did hold my hand throughout. Love her to the moon and back!

 

 

  


She didn't want him to run, he didn't want her to fear

Nobody said it'd be easy, they knew it was rough

But, tough luck

I fell in love today, there aren't many words you can say

That could ever get my mind to change

She's enough for me, she's in love with me

You're a doll, you are flawless

But I just can't wait for love to destroy us

I just can't wait for love

You're only flaw, you are flawless

But I just can't wait for love to destroy us

I just can't wait for love

So, she put his heart in a bag, he wouldn't ask for it back

He didn't want her to cry, she didn't want to be sad

She said, you better not leave me

This shit'll be fucked for days and weeks

and months, but

I fell in love today,

there aren't any words that you can say

That could ever get my mind to change

She's enough for me, she's in love with me

You're a doll, you are flawless

But I just can't wait for love to destroy us

I just can't wait for love

You're only flaw, you are flawless

But I just can't wait for love to destroy us

I just can't wait for love

Add it all up, I can find it

The problem with love is I'm blinded by

It rattles my lungs, but my mind is

Tangled between your little flaws

Your flaws, your flaws, your flaws

You're a doll, you are flawless

But I just can't wait for love to destroy us

I just can't wait for love

 

Flawless - The Neighbourhood

  


 

Twenty minutes later she had dinner ready and was walking back into the living room to see where Jon wanted to eat, only to find her house guest had fallen asleep again. She sat down carefully on the arm of the recliner figuring the movement would wake him, but surprisingly he didn’t stir. She should've gotten up, went back to the kitchen and covered their food to keep it warm, but she was stuck right there, everything about him holding her captive.

 

He was so beautiful.

 

An odd word for most men, but there wasn't a better one to describe him. It almost hurt to look at him he was so perfect. Her eyes traced and mapped out every line, plane, and contour of his gorgeous face, not a true flaw to be found. But that wasn't all that made him beautiful. Jon had a good heart, one of the best she'd ever known. And while it added another crack to hers, she thought he might be a bit broken too.

 

Two wrongs didn't make a right, but could two broken souls help heal each other, or was that just wishful thinking?

 

_Should she listen to Missandei and give herself another chance at happiness with him? She couldn’t deny a part of her certainly wanted to, but could she find it in herself to start over? Love another man? Let Jon touch her, make love to her even, and not have memories of Drogo invade her mind? And the biggest question of all… Could she love Jon without fear and doubt following her around like dark clouds all hours of the day, both sure to ruin any happiness that might be found._

 

She wanted so badly to say yes to all of them, but she wasn't sure she was ready yet, or if he was either. He seemed to think he was from their talk several days before, but there was still a lot to learn about each other. Living together as they were now, they were probably about to learn a whole lot in a short amount of time. The good and the bad.

 

Jon must have felt her thinking about him because those dark lashes fluttered open and his big doe eyes looked up at her, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Did I miss supper?” he asked, voice thick and raspy from sleep.

 

“Nope, it's hot and ready,” she answered with a smile of her own. She was finding it impossible not to smile back at him when he cast one of his irresistible ones in her direction. “Where would you like to eat? Here, the kitchen, or out on the porch?” she asked, standing back up to give him space.

 

 _It was her that really needed it_.

 

“Hmm, the porch? I haven’t been outside in weeks it feels like.”

 

She gave him a sad smile. “You haven't, but we'll fix that. To the porch we go." He seemed much better after his little catnap, she wanted to help him stay there. Fresh air was always a good thing. She held a finger up. "Sit tight another minute and I’ll get the table set, then I'll help you outside.” She hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the plates and silverware, but when she made it back to the living room he was already standing by the backdoor waiting on her. “Pushing already, I see,” she scolded him with a glare.

 

He gave a sheepish smile as she walked past him and opened the door. She set the plates and silverware on the table, then helped him get settled into one of the chairs–his leg propped up on a big, cushy footstool–before she headed back in to get the food. She was back with a steaming bowl of spaghetti, warm soft bread, and two sweet teas in a flash.

 

“It's as gorgeous out here as it was out front,” he told her as she made her way around the table. "The view's as great as you said it would be."

 

“Isn’t it? Makes the sour smell of the marshes worth it, I think,” she said while fixing him a big plate and passing it to him.

 

He took it, a delighted groaning exhale slipping out as he did. “Damn Dany, this looks and smells delicious. I’m gonna go ahead and ask for your forgiveness, because I’m probably about to make a pig out of myself in front of you,” he said with a smirk before digging in with abandon.

 

She chuckled. “You’re forgiven. I expected no less. I know how much a grown man eats,” she replied without thinking first. She glanced at him to see if he'd caught her slip up. He had stopped chewing and was giving her an understanding look.

 

He swallowed the bite he had in his mouth. “You know, you can talk about him if you want. It won’t bother me. I don’t expect you to pretend he didn’t exist when you’re around me. Or any of them. I’d love to hear about them when you’re ready. They helped make you so amazing after all.”

 

The air simply left her. She sat staring at him, once again not believing he was real. The more time she spent with him, the more perfect he became. She didn't stand a chance in the naive fight she was waging against her feelings. It was a losing battle.

 

He began to look nervous the longer she stayed silent. “Did I say the wrong thing? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

 

She shook her head. “You didn’t say anything wrong, Jon. What you said couldn’t have been more right. Thank you.” She reached over and rubbed the back of his hand. “I’m sure I’ll take you up on your offer one day, but right now, eat, before it gets cold,” she told him, and dug into her own food, avoiding his worried eyes. The last thing she wanted to discuss over dinner was her sham of a marriage.

 

They ate in silence for a short while, only the sounds of forks scraping against plates, the wind blowing through the oaks and seagrasses, an occasional bird calling to another filling the air. It was familiar, and somewhat peaceful, yet too strained to allow her to relax enough to enjoy it. The air around them seemed to grow as thick with tension as a southern summer day did with humidity. She hated both.

 

"Dany?"

 

The unease that clung to her simple name had her looking up, stealing herself for questions she wasn't ready for. Jon had laid his fork back on his plate and was staring at her, his brow furrowed.

 

"I really don't want to ruin our supper but…" He winced and ran a hand through his hair, the wild curls springing right back into place as he let out a rough sigh. His eyes had dropped from hers and stared at nothing. Whatever it was, it wasn't about her, but him and his past. She knew that look well. "There's some things I should tell you," he said gruffly. "I should've done it already, but I just couldn't figure out the right time. And I'm afraid if I don't do it now, I may never."

 

She couldn't ignore the knot of fear that was suddenly sitting heavy in her stomach. They were alone now, in her home. Undoing the choices that had brought them there wouldn't be easy to do. She felt almost trapped, wanting to run as her mind scrambled to sort out what his secrets could be, putting the vague and limited pieces of him together in hopes of creating a pretty picture. She wanted, _no,_ she _needed_ him to be safe. But she wouldn't know if he was if she didn't let him talk.

 

She swallowed and put her fork down as well, deciding to be brave. It was the least she could do for him after all he'd done for her. Maybe he needed her to be safe too.

 

"Sometimes there's not a right time, sometimes all we have is now," she told him softly. Tyrion would be proud to hear her use his wisdom. Probably insufferably so.

 

Jon gave her a pained smile. "Yeah."

 

"Whatever it is Jon, you can tell me. God knows I've spilled plenty of my baggage on you."

 

"I think maybe you're braver than me," he said, lowly.

 

She reached over and took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's all an act," she said, "I've gotten really good at pretending."

 

His body shook as he let out a chuff of air and nodded his head. He laced his fingers with hers and held on tight as he looked up at her. "You don't have to pretend with me, Dany," he whispered. "I don't want you to."

 

An odd, strangled sort of noise worked its way out of her throat and she grabbed their entwined hands with her other one. "I don't want you to pretend with me either."

 

That pained smile was back. "I'll try not to, if you will."

 

"Okay," she agreed with a nod.

 

*~*

 

He pressed his lips together as he turned away, nodding too. Her beautiful eyes were digging deep, shaking his thrown together walls and threatening to tear everything down. If they succeeded, they would leave him exposed, like a fresh wound, raw, every touch or movement painful. He'd thought he was ready for this, now he wasn't so sure. He wanted to puke again, for a wholly different reason, but he'd already said too much, he had to rip the scab off and let it bleed out. Be as brave as her.

 

Several deep breaths later he was able to look back at her again. "The money thing?" he reminded with a grimace. She gave him a hum of acknowledgement, her expression open and encouraging. He forced the first few words out. "My parents left it for me. Savings, life insurance, a hefty settlement from their accident." He grabbed a piece of bread from the basket and tore off a piece, chewing it up, suddenly needing something in his hand and something besides spilling secrets for his mouth to do. He missed smoking, would've done just about anything for one right then. He washed the bread down with a sip of tea and quit his stalling. "They meant well, thing was, they didn't expect to die so soon. The money was there, but it…" He sucked in another gulp of air and pushed his hair out of his face. "There was no plan to go with it, other than me being a beneficiary on the life insurance policies. They didn't have a will."

 

He saw her hand cover her mouth from the corner of his eye, heard her whispered, "Oh no."

 

"Yeah," he breathed with a nod. "Uncle Ned shielded me from it for as long as he could. It was a month or two after the funeral I think, all that's still kinda blurry. Could've been several." He shook his head and looked down at his shorts, picking at a loose thread. "The day they took me though," he whispered, hating the raspy break in his voice, "that's clear as a bell."

 

That had her sitting up. "Took you? Who took you?"

 

"Family and children's services." She gasped and he sighed out another _yeah._

 

"But why?" she asked, confusion and anger lacing her tone.

 

He winced, bit another chunk of bread off and ate it, followed by a few more gulps of sweet tea. He hadn't told anyone what he was about to tell her. Robb and them knew of course, but that was as far as it went. There wasn't a single shred of happiness to be remembered, if he could've found a way to wipe the years from his memory he would have. A hundred times over.

 

"My dad's side of the family…" He trailed off and scrubbed a hand over his face. _Just spit it out, dammit._ "Me and Mom were pretty much his midlife crisis. They met at work, had a fling, mom got knocked up with me and he left behind his wife and two kids. Made us his new family. _But,_ that didn't stop them from wanting me. Except they didn't really, they wanted the money that came with me."

 

"Oh, Jon." She meant well, he knew she did, but the pity he heard in those two tiny words made him sick. Almost angry. But she didn't deserve that, never would.

 

"Uncle Ned begged children's services to let me stay with them, swore he wouldn't touch the money if they'd let me stay. But the courts decided the best place for me was foster care until the lawyers and judges could work it out, see who had my best interests at heart."

 

He'd relived it a thousand times. The panic that seized him the moment the woman squatted in front of him and took him by the shoulders. Her face had been kind, her voice too, but the words she'd spoken had turned him to ice. _"You have to go with me Jon, just for a little while. I promise everything will be alright."_

 

Even then, at seven he knew she was lying and nothing would ever be right again. He'd thought the worst thing to ever happen was Uncle Ned telling him his mom and dad were never coming back. But when that lady had grabbed him up, terror had coursed through his little body. It was as if the boogie man from his nightmares had come to life. He'd fought her like a demon, kicking and screaming, but she'd walked out the door with him anyway, all while Ned scuffled with the cop and Robb and Arya cried, the latter clinging to Ned, the other chasing them out into the yard.

 

He could still hear Robb's screaming, his fists banging on the window, the metallic clank of him yanking at the door handle as Jon fought against the woman's hold to get to his cousin. His own wails as the cop snatched Robb up and took him back to Ned, growing even louder as he watched the three of them through his tear-filled eyes get smaller and smaller as the car drove away.

 

The same fear and utter hopelessness he'd felt laying in bed that night at the strange house they'd taken him too, gripped him again, just as it always did. It had smelled like old people. He could still see the hateful man who snarled at him when he wouldn't eat his breakfast the next day. His scraggly salt and pepper beard, the spit that flew from his shiny lips, the big red nose scattered with tiny blue and purple veins. Could smell his soured breath, feel the heat of it blow against his face. His faded blue ey—

 

Dany grabbed his hand, pulling him free from the hated memories. Her thumb rubbed over his knuckles, her grip tight and anchoring, her beautiful ocean eyes mooring him back into the present. "It worked out, right?" she asked softly. "You got to go back and stay with them."

 

She was trying to remind him things had all turned out okay, and maybe, eventually they had, but not like she thought.

 

"Three years later."

 

A look of horror washed over her. " _Three years?"_

 

He nodded. "Three years and…" he narrowed his eyes and looked out at the marshes as he ticked them off in his head, " _eleven_ foster homes later." He threw her a grin. "I didn't get on so well with anyone. Didn't stay more than a few months at each before they were calling them to come take me back."

 

Dany suddenly let him go, got up from her chair and walked to the railing, her back to him, arms held tight around herself, as if she'd gotten a chill, or something worse.

 

His heart jolted, jumping to a new level of jittery, unable to come up with any reason other than rejection for her actions. "I'll shut up now, it's not important. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

 

Everything within him was begging her to turn around, to be okay, anything to tell him he hadn't just fucked everything up as he watched her. A quick hand brushed away tears, her shoulders rose and fell again as she took a deep breath, fretting fists dropped to her sides. He'd done that to her, and he hated himself for it. She finally turned around and came back to him, sitting carefully on the stool his leg was propped on. She took his hand in hers. "No, you will _not_ shut up. Tell me, please. I want to know you too."

 

"Dany, if I'm hurting you with this, I—"

 

"You're not. Not the way you're thinking. Please, tell me," she begged softly.

 

He searched her eyes, those usually tragic eyes that were always tearing at his heart. He needed to be sure she wasn't pushing aside her own pain to take care of his instead. He knew she did that sometimes, because he did it too. But if she had, she was hiding it well. All that stared back at him was tenderness, a safe haven where he could let it all go. His breath suddenly coming easier, he laced his fingers with hers and did just that.

 

"Things were better when I was back with them, but they were still…" he shrugged, _"wrong_ I guess. I didn't realize it back then, not until I was in my teens, but Uncle Ned fighting to get me back… It hurt all of them. Him and my aunt fought all the time. Nine times out of ten it was about me." He sighed, tried not to let the bitterness rise up. "Let's just say I wasn't her favorite. Turns out he spent a fortune to get me back, but he wouldn't use the money my parents left to cover the debt. Or for anything else either. Not even to take care of me."

 

"Why?" she asked quietly, laying a hand on his knee. He'd been bouncing it like some nervous kid, only then realizing it.

 

Giving her a grateful grin he stretched his leg out, shaking the tension from it before taking a slow breath and blowing it out. "He was afraid they'd take me again and he'd never get me back if they did," he answered. "So, they were barely making ends meet while I had a few million in the bank. She hated me for that. Still does."

 

A fierce glare took over Dany's beautiful face. "I'm not going to have to meet this woman anytime soon, am I?"

 

He snorted. "Catelyn, come see me?" he asked with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head. "No, that's not something you have to worry about. Why?" Her eyes were spitting fire, those full pink lips pinched into a hard line, even her nostrils were flaring. He was almost scared. "Dany?"

 

"Let's just make sure I never do. She wouldn't fair well."

 

He chuckled, though his heart did some kind of crazy somersault within his chest. He'd just thought he was fucked before. There was no doubt now.

 

"Sorry, I got you off track, keep going," she told him, squeezing his knee.

 

He sat back with a sigh, ran a hand through his hair, and scratched at the back of his neck. "Something else I didn't see it at the time… Ned spent more of it with me than he did Robb and them, let me get away with shit he probably shouldn't have. At least for the first several years anyway. He tried so hard to help me deal with it all, I'd be okay for a while, then I wouldn't be."

 

"Well, of course not, what child would be?"

 

He shrugged. "The older I get the more I believe that, then I wonder if I'm just a fucked up whiney bitch. There's so many people that had it worse."

 

"You're not a whiney bitch," she told him firmly.

 

He threw her a pitiful smile and gave a heavy exhale. "Maybe not. But anyway, that's why I haven't touched the money. Why I hate it. I could spend it all, pay off my student loans, buy myself a mansion, sports cars, take trips…" he dropped his fist to his thigh, bounced it a few times, "but, none of those things would erase all the bad shit. I've almost given it all away more times than I can count, but I'm afraid. Feel like it's cursed. I don't want to heap that onto anyone else. I've tried to give Robb some before, help him with his business, he wouldn't take it. Tried to give it all to Aunt Cat behind Uncle Ned's back when Bran got hurt. She nearly spit in my face."

 

Dany made a low growling noise in the back of her throat, but he kept his eyes on his clenched fist and forced the rest out.

 

"That's when I finally left. Packed my bags that day and told the rest of them goodbye. I was seventeen. The lawyers hadn't sold the house I grew up in, just rented it to add to my trust fund. Thankfully it was between renters. So I moved back home after eleven years, got lucky and was accepted to SCAD that fall, and now here I am."

 

*~*

 

So many things made sense now.

 

Gendry begging her to stay, saying Jon needed good people in his life. Robb's mention of him having rough patches, Ned telling her about the light going out of his eyes. Arya's fierce protectiveness of him. The depression and mood swings at the hospital.

 

Something told her there was still more to his story, probably a lot more. He'd skipped the last decade after all. But she wouldn't push him. She was certain that too would come out with time.

 

She was too far away to hug him like she wanted, so she settled for rubbing his good leg some more.

 

He heaved a weary sigh and threw his arm up, his hand going back to rub at his neck, then around to his beard, doing the same. She hated to see him so nervous, it made her chest ache. She kept up the hopefully soothing strokes to his leg. "I get broody sometimes," he finally said, "lots of times according to Robb and them, but it's just always there, you know?"

 

"Yeah, I do."

 

Those sweet, brown eyes caught hers and he leaned forward, grabbing her hand, a pained look on his pretty face. "I'm sorry."

 

She knew he wasn't apologizing for himself, or for anything he'd said or done, but because she knew what the hurt was like, the same as he did.

 

"I'm sorry too," she whispered, wanting him to know she hated it for him just as much.

 

His head lowered, throat working as he swallowed thickly. "I should've told you before now, let you decide if you wanted to deal with my miserable ass." He let her go, shaking his head, a clenched fist pressed between his eyes. "Fuck, Dany. I'm sorry. I'm a selfish bastard," he hissed. "I'll call Robb, have him come get me. I can't believe I did this to you."

 

She sat straight up, shocked at his sudden turn. "What? Jon, no. It's alright."

 

Still shaking his head, he scowled at her. "No, it's not. You told me everything in plenty of time for me to make a choice about staying with you," he said, lowering his eyes to his lap. "I didn't give you the same."

 

"Jon, look at me." He did, reluctantly, and he may as well have cut himself open in the process. There was such pain and hope and fear written on his face it was as if his heart was laid bare before her, bruised and battered, begging for her to pick it up and do what she could to heal it.

 

_Is that what he saw when she looked at him?_

 

_Did it hurt him just as much?_

 

She reached for his hand again, waiting for him to take it, releasing a pent up breath when he finally did. She kept a tight hold of it. "It's okay. If anyone understands not wanting to open up old wounds, it's me." She waited a beat, hoping he'd relent, when he didn't she pressed on. "Remember when you told me nothing I'd said about my past changed how you felt?" He nodded, his mouth pressed in a hard line. "Yeah, well, yours doesn't change my feelings either. You were just a little kid, and none of what happened was your fault. Do you really think I'd hold any of that against you?"  

 

He blew out a harsh breath and gave a quick shake of his head. "Not that, no," he sighed, "But you're dealing with your own stuff _and_ my crippled ass, you had a right to know I was also emotionally crippled before I invited myself here."

 

She threw him a cynical look. "You are _not_ emotionally crippled. What nonsense is that? You've got one of the best hearts I've ever known, Jon."

 

His face fell into a deep frown as he gave a chuff. "Doesn't mean I'm good at the healthy coping mechanisms."

 

She snorted. Loudly. "Pot, meet kettle," she joked, pointing to him then herself.

 

It started small, just a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth, but soon a big grin broke free, a quiet laugh joining it. Her heart wanted to dance, so she let it, laughing right along with him.

 

The tension thankfully broken, they sat quietly for a few minutes, him looking around the porch and out at the marshes, her watching him.

 

The soft sunlight was bathing him in a warm glow, catching in his eyes, revealing streams of amber and gold within their normally dark depths. Bringing out the same within his wild curls as they fought the breeze. The enticing blush of his full lips.

 

_Her view was better than his._

 

After looking over at Miss Naomi's daybed swing for a few seconds he turned to her with a hopeful smile. “Do you think you’d like to sit with me on that swing bed thing and watch the sunset?”

 

“Swing bed? That's one way to describe it,” she chuckled, covering the trickle of fear tumbling around in her stomach his question had released, but looking at him, knowing what she knew about herself and now him, there was only one answer she could give. “Yes, I’ll sit with you. Let me put the dishes in the kitchen first." She stood up and gathered their empty plates together. “You’re gonna stay your stubborn ass in that chair until I get back though. We’re not going to the hospital again because you rushed things and got hurt trying to get into a swing, are we?” she asked, giving him a stern look as she stopped beside him.

 

He threw a hand up. “No, ma’am. I promise I’ll be a good boy and wait right here."

 

“Thank you," she replied, placing a kiss on his cheek, because he was too adorable to resist. "I’ll be right back.”

 

It only took her a couple of minutes to scrape the plates off and leave everything soaking in hot soapy water to clean later. She poured Jon another tea, slipped on her thin sweater, and put his pain pills in her pocket. He’d be needing them soon. She walked back outside, pleased to see him is right where she left him.

 

“Okie doke, the dishes are soaking. You ready?” she asked, reaching for his ankle, but not moving it yet. She usually lifted his leg for him if it was propped up; it still hurt him pretty bad to do it on his own.

 

“Ready,” he told her with a forced smile.

 

She stopped and looked at him pointedly. “The pain meds have worn off, haven’t they?” He nodded and she pulled the pills out of her pocket, shaking one into her palm and holding it out to him.

 

He took it from her. “Thank you. I swear you’re a mind reader. You always know what I need,” he said, grimacing, then popped the pill into his mouth, washing it down with a big swallow of tea.

 

She stood up and walked over to stand behind him. Slipping her fingers into his hair she gently rubbed his scalp, careful not to go near the scar on the right side of his head. They learned real quick he couldn’t stand to have it touched, it was still too painful. After a few minutes, she moved down to his neck, lightly massaging it until she felt him relax a bit.

 

“We can go in, Jon. There’ll be another sunset tomorrow evening, too,” she said, hoping to persuade him to get some more rest. He'd had a rough day, physically and emotionally. She didn't want him to hurt or overdo any more than he had to, and also because she was getting more nervous by the second about being on that swing with him. Laying there together while watching the sunset would be one step closer to the point of no return. She felt as if she was standing at the edge of a cliff, one stiff gust of wind away from falling.

 

He slowly sat up, pulling away from her hands. “I'd like to stay out here, if that's okay. I’m really sick of looking at walls and watching TV. I promise I'll go in if the pain gets worse."

 

It was getting near impossible to tell him no. Instead of seeing the grown man in front of her, her mind had conjured its imagining of his seven year old self– mop of curls around a sweet pale face, big brown eyes, full of tears, begging for what his little heart needed most. Love and a place to feel safe.

 

She swallowed down her nerves for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, knowing it certainly wouldn’t be the last time she did it before the day was done, then walked around to help him up. Once he was steady she handed him the crutch, staying close as he made his way over to the swing. She held it as still as she could while he gingerly sat himself down, then helped him adjust to a comfortable position. Thankfully there were plenty of pillows to prop his achy body on.

 

But when it was her turn to sit down, she froze, not sure where to go.

 

“Come on, sit right here. On your side facing out,” he prodded, pointing between his spread thighs. “You can lay your head up here, if you want,” he said, patting the right side of his chest.

 

She looked at him, bottom lip trapped between her teeth, hoping he didn’t see her shaking with the storm of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. He was looking back at her as if he saw all her fears, knew them all as well as she did and wanted to help her battle them. His hand was open, waiting for her to place hers into it, just as she'd done him earlier, and suddenly, it wasn't about sitting on a swing with him. It was about so much more.

 

_Be brave, you coward. Don’t give into the fear. Don’t run anymore, just stay. Believe in the hope he’s giving you and stay. Stay and give him a chance, give this a chance. Give yourself a chance._

 

“Jon?” His name left her lips barely a whisper, and she wasn't sure if she was pleading with herself or with him. She was desperate for an answer either way.

 

“I know you're scared, Dany. I am too. I'm scared for me, for you. But I think, if we stick together, we might actually make it,” he husked. "I promise I won't let go, if you don't."

 

She felt the bottom fall out from beneath her. That stiff gust of wind had come, giving her only two choices. Keep falling, shattering into a million pieces at the bottom, never to be whole again. Or let Jon catch her.

 

More scared than she thought she'd ever been, Dany slipped her hand into his and let him pull her down to lay with him. She carefully settled herself against him, a shuddering sigh taking her as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of head. For the first time in days she felt at ease, _safe_.

 

Eyes burning and stinging, she squeezed them shut, fighting back the tears, swallowed at the thickening knot in her throat. Her choice had been the right one. The tightness with which Jon held her, his uneven breath ruffling her hair, his heaving chest and pounding heart under her ear… He knew the weight of the promise he'd made, and how hard it was for her to trust in it.

 

And she knew his trust was just as hard won. But he'd given it to her anyway, hoping she would catch him too.

 

"I won't let go, I promise," she whispered and held him as tight as she dared, finally letting the tears fall, hope flooding her and spilling over onto the man she was very quickly falling in love with.

  


*-*

  


The sun had long since set, the air turned moist and chilly, but she was asleep and he refused to wake her, no matter how much his body ached, or how bad he had to piss. He knew sleep was sometimes his only reprieve, no doubt hers too, he wasn't going to take it from her.

 

She'd cried herself out on his chest. At first it was just quiet sniffles, but soon enough she was shaking in his arms, her tears so heavy they soaked his shirt. She never saw them, but his own mixed with hers over half the time.

 

He hadn't been able to keep them in once she started pouring her own pain out. Digging up his past for her had left him raw, feeling as weak as a piece of wood riddled with rot. He'd probably needed a good purge anyway.

 

He hadn't cried in what felt like forever, not since the last time he gave in and opened one of the bottles of whiskey he'd pitifully _hidden_ in the highest cabinet over the fridge. It was Ghost he'd spilled his heart to that night, who sat with him in the bathroom as he puked his idiot guts up the next morning, and the next three. But he'd also walked with him to the trash bins the fourth night, watching him throw half a dozen bottles away, a shower of pills following.

 

As fragile as she seemed, Dany was stronger than him, he knew that. He'd lost loved ones, had the requisite shit childhood and mishandling of his grief and demons. Years spent trying to wash it all down his throat, burn it away in his stomach, or numb it with antidepressants, before finally deciding to block it all up completely and ignore it. That hadn't worked any better than the rest. The last year and a half had been a constant struggle of avoiding the liquor store, fighting not to let himself go down that path again. Of pushing the depression away, trying to hide it when he couldn't.

 

Yet, she'd been fighting to stay in the world at all.

 

_How could he be the man she needed him to be?_

 

A heart could surely only handle so much before it gave up. She’d already been too close to that point before. What if he screwed up? Fell off the wagon? Or even if he didn't, what if who he was pulled her back down to rock bottom? He couldn’t stand the thought of her being there again. Especially if he was the one to put her there. It scared him to death to think he could lose her when he'd just found her. Scared him even more he might be too screwed up to help her in any way.

 

He hadn't even managed to be completely honest with her, even if he had told her more than he ever had anyone else, save his family. But _fuck_ he wanted to, almost had, his fears had kept those secrets locked up tight though.

 

There was nothing more he wanted than to protect her from any and everything that would dare cause her another ounce of pain or fear. He couldn't help but wonder if he was one of those things. And if he turned out to be, could he let her go if it meant saving her from more heartache?

 

He wasn't sure he was strong enough to walk away even then. Hell, he knew he wasn't, or he already would have. That very day. He'd told her he wanted to pull apart all her knots, and he did, but his own broken heart had become so tangled up between the jagged pieces of hers, every day that passed only wedging him in tighter– he knew walking away from her would be next to impossible.

 

There was no other choice; he'd have to be strong in a different way. Be the man she needed.

 

But he wasn't sure exactly who that was. He knew holding her, or wiping away some tears wouldn't be enough, even if it seemed to help a little. But she kept telling him he was doing everything right, and he had seen some of the shadows fading from her eyes.

 

Maybe his luck had finally turned and he was what she needed. Even though he was afraid he'd fail her miserably, that was damn sure what he wanted to be.

 

He wanted to find every way possible to make her smile, to put happiness back in her life for the rest of her days. He wanted to make her laugh so hard she cried happy tears and her sides hurt. Those should be the only kind of tears and pain she should ever have to deal with. He wanted to soothe her fears, make her forget what those torturous panic attacks she had ever felt like. He didn’t want her to ever be afraid of the past or future again.

 

More than that, he didn't want her to be afraid of love. He wanted her to have love again, to feel love again. He wanted her to love him the way he… _loved her?_

 

_Did he love her?_

 

He thought he might, but he'd never been in love before.

 

_How would he know?_

 

He’d never felt anything close to what he felt for Dany with anyone else, he did know that. His love for Ned and Robb, Arya, the boys, that was a familiar thing. It hadn't even been the same with Ygritte or Val.

 

 _Shit_ , he needed to tell her about them at some point too. He couldn’t help but shudder just thinking about that conversation. That would definitely be for another day.

 

No, Dany had been a perfect stranger to him three weeks ago, but then he saw her standing there, with that shy smile, the blush across her cheeks, and his whole world was turned on its head. It boggled his mind how quickly she had come to mean everything to him. His every thought, action, and word centered on her.

 

_Maybe that was obsession and not love?_

 

He didn’t want her to be an obsession, she deserved better than that. Much better. _Fuck_ , he wished he trusted his feelings or could ask someone to help him figure them out.

 

Arya avoided love like the plague. She was useless in that endeavor.

 

Robb thought he was in love once. He wouldn't trade his little princess for anything in this world, but he swore love was bullshit. He was a lust man now, through and through.

 

There was Gen, but he wouldn't torture the poor guy. He doubted his friend would have anything positive to say about love these days anyway.

 

He could call Ned. He didn't believe he had what most would consider the healthiest of marriages, but he had no doubt he knew what love was. He was his best bet anyhow. He'd been pretty good at getting him through the rough years, helping him sort out the mess in his head as best he could. Maybe he could this time too, he'd call him later.

 

Until then, he'd just let whatever he was feeling continue, and see where it took him. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t regret it. He may not know if it was the real thing yet, but he did know there were a lot of things he already loved about Dany.

 

Her smile for one, and the way seeing it made his heart beat faster, and that he couldn’t help but smile back at her. He loved her laugh. He'd only heard it a few times, but he wanted to hear it every day. How caring she was. The way she ran her fingers through his hair when he got agitated about things, or needed some comfort. The way she always seemed to know what he needed before he did. The feel her soft lips pressed against his cheek or forehead, the way it made his stomach flip, and mostly because he felt it in his heart instead. He loved how her hand fit so well with his, and how he'd forget the pain his body was in for just a little while. How her smell made him feel at home. The sound of his name when it fell from her lips. Her eyes, and how expressive they were even though she didn’t want them to be. How the sunlight had played with her hair earlier that day, making it shine a dozen shades of silver and gold. Her strength and courage, both making him want to be a better man for her. He especially loved her tender, bruised heart that hadn’t given up on life.

 

_Maybe he really did love her?_

 

He knew he felt something when she put her trust in him a couple of hours ago. She was terrified. He could see it in her eyes, but she chose to face it, and took one of the steps needed to overcome the fears. She chose to let him be beside her as she did, too, even knowing he was mess himself. He couldn’t help but love her bravery, especially when she had to fight so hard for it. He may very well love her already, but he wasn't worthy of her. He was going to do his best to change that though.

 

She suddenly started to squirm and make little noises, whimpers really. He ran a hand over her head and down her back, hoping it would either wake her, or calm her.

 

“No. No, don’t leave,” she softly begged, sounding pitiful enough to make his heart ache.

 

“Shhhhh, Dany. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered. Maybe he could soothe her back to sleep.

 

She calmed down for only a second, before sliding down his body as if someone had grabbed her ankles and pulled. His heart lodged in his throat as she buried her face in his stomach, latching onto him in a death grip. “Come back! Don’t take him, please don’t take him!"

 

This wasn't just any dream, she was having a nightmare, and a bad one.

 

“Shhhhh, Dany. You’re just dreaming, you need to wake up. Wake up, and it’ll go away,” he tried to reason with her, which was stupid as hell, she wasn't awake to hear him.

 

She started to thrash, reaching, legs wanting to run. "No! No, he’ll die!”

 

He cursed his broken body, unable to move enough to help her. He wanted to pick her up, hold her like she needed. That wasn't happening. Instead, he wrapped his good leg over both of hers to keep her from kicking his bad one. It felt selfish, but if he let her hurt him it wouldn’t help the situation.

 

“Not Ray! Please, no,” she sobbed and clawed at his shirt.

 

 _Ray? He swore she said her husband’s name was Drogo_.

 

“Dany! Wake up. Please wake up.” He shook her rougher than he wanted to. It didn’t do a damn thing, unfortunately.

 

“Jon! Jon, no! You can’t die. Don’t leave me, too, please, don’t leave me. Please!” she wailed.

 

_God, she was breaking his heart._

 

He brushed her hair away from her face, and tapped her cheek pretty hard. He didn’t want to, but he had to wake her up. “Dany! Wake up!” She sucked in a huge gasp of air, her body freezing stiff and he felt like a complete asshole. “It’s okay, Dany. It's Jon. I’ve got you, it was just a nightmare. It’s over now,” he whispered, running his hand over her head and back again, hoping he wasn't scaring her even more. She went limp against him then began to shake.

 

Heart breaking, he softly shushed her, holding her as best he could. "It’s okay now. It’s over,” he told her, never stopping his gentle touch.

 

A few seconds later she bolted up off the swing, scaring the shit out of him. She went to the porch railing and stood, shoulders rising and falling with quick and heavy breaths, hands roughly wiping at her face. Before he could ask if she was okay, she was back in front of him holding her hand out. “I’m sorry about that, come on, we need to get you inside,” she sputtered, her voice soft and shaky.

 

He shook his head and sat up, unable to school the worried frown on his face. “It’s okay, Dany. Are you alright? Maybe you need to sit back down for a while,” he suggested carefully.

 

“I’m fine, Jon,” she snapped, “Take my hand. You don’t need to be out here in the cold, it’s not good for your broken bones.”

 

He didn’t let her sudden anger get to him, but he didn't want to go inside either. He wanted to hold her. He wouldn't get to though. There was a deep desperation in her eyes as they looked back at him. She didn’t want his pity. She needed him to let it go, so he would. He put his hand in hers, and pulled himself up, doing his best not to let her see how much it hurt. Being stuck in one position while cold, wet air soaked into his bones had not done him any favors.

 

Taking his crutch from her, he gritted his teeth and took the first step, a bolt of pain shooting up his leg. He refused to upset her even more by asking for the wheelchair, so he just moved as slow and lightly as he could.

 

Once they made it to the hall he looked over his shoulder at her. “I need to go to the bathroom.” She nodded, waiting by the door, closing it behind him once he was inside. He did his business, washed his hands, and eased back out. She was standing in his bedroom across the hall. There was a glass of water, and a bottle of pills on the nightstand already.

 

He limped his way over and made it to the bed and turned to sit down, but she stopped him, a hand on his arm.

 

“Let me help you with your shorts before you sit,” she said, her voice emotionless.

 

He stood still, leaning his weight on the crutch, and let her pull them down his legs. She helped him step out of them, leaving him in his boxers and t-shirt. You’d think he'd be having trouble keeping his urges in check since she was on her knees in front of him, but he wasn't. She was hurting, and it only made him hurt for her. Not to mention the pain he was in. Sex was last thing on his mind.

 

She stood back up and motioned for him to sit. After she took his crutch and leaned it against the wall she came back and stood between his legs, unhooking his sling and taking it off. Once that was done, they very slowly and carefully worked together to pull his shirt off. She put his sling back on with the efficiency of a seasoned nurse, then picked up the glass of water and handed it to him. Next came a pain pill that she dropped in his open mouth and waited for him to wash it down, before taking the water back.

 

He hoped she was done being nurse, but she turned and got the supplies out to clean his pins. Again, they both stayed silent as she knelt at his feet, and went through the routine of cleaning, then drying each one. He watched her numbly stand, and throw away the used pads. He couldn't take the silent, impersonal act they had going on anymore. He reached out and took her hand in his when she got close enough, not surprised when she flinched, or by the ache that took his heart seeing her do it.

 

“Dany? I’m here," he told her softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. "I swear I’m not trying to push you, but I want you to know I’m here. Whatever you need. I told you last week that nothing would make me walk away from you, I meant that, just like you did tonight."

 

An overwhelming urge came over him, watching her stare at the floor, teeth buried in her lip, a tear sliding down her cheek… Those three little words were fighting for their freedom. He loved her. He knew he did, there was no more doubt. He loved the beautiful, strong, courageous woman in front of him. Loved her with every ounce of his soul, nothing but her peace and happiness mattered anymore. He knew she wasn't ready to hear those words from him though. So he'd keep them safe for her until she was.

 

“It’s okay if you don't want to stay with me right now, I get it, but will you let me at least hug you goodnight?” he asked, hoping if he could get her in his arms it would give her some comfort.

 

He barely caught her nod, but took advantage of it before she changed her mind, gently tugging her toward him so he could grab her waist, and pull her onto his lap. He breathed a sigh of relief when she let him, wrapping her arms around him as she tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He held her tight, placing soft kisses on her head and the side of her face.

 

They sat there for a while, neither speaking a word, but their hands talked for them, running down backs and arms, and over legs.

 

"Are you okay?" she finally whispered.

 

He nodded. "Yeah. Are you?"

 

She hummed, a cool hand sliding up his back and into the hair at his nape. The other had found its way up his chest, tentative fingers teasing the hollow of his throat, a pleasant rush of chill bumps rising over his skin from the gentle touches. He wondered if she even realized she was doing it. It almost felt as if he was her living security blanket. He was more than okay with that.

 

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

 

"It's okay, I didn't mind."

 

"Or cry all over you."

 

"Didn't mind that either. Sometimes a good cry helps."

 

She slowly sat up, soft hands sliding over his skin as she pulled away and looked at him, eyes wide and watery. "I'm sorry about the nightmare. Please tell me I didn't hurt you," she begged with a weak whisper.

 

His chest felt as if it had taken a swift kick from a rather large boot, her pain becoming his. He brushed her hair back from her face and held it gently, running his thumb across her cheek. "You didn't, and you have nothing to be sorry for," he whispered and pulled her closer, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm just sorry I wasn't able to wake you up sooner."

 

Her head shook, a shuddering tremble running though her as she let out a ragged breath. "It's okay, I'm used to them."

 

 _Goddamnit,_ he wanted to rage at her demons, tear them to sheds, never let them near her again. No one deserved the torment less than her. But he knew well enough he couldn't slay demons, or nightmares, or memories, so he pulled her back against him instead, and held her tight, hoping she felt the pain in her chest ease the same way he did when she was in his arms.

 

Her own slipped back around him and he wanted nothing more than to lay her down and hold her all night long, but he knew that was probably asking too much, too soon.

 

A big yawn snuck up on her, her whole body shaking with it. He pressed a kiss her forehead. “You need to get some sleep," he whispered against her skin.

 

“You do, too,” she sighed out, her breath blowing warm across his collarbone.

 

A yawn took him that time, damn contagious things. “I guess we both do.”

 

She pressed her hand to one cheek and a kiss to his other then carefully stood from his lap. He felt hollowed, already missing her and she hadn't even left his side. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me. Call my phone, it always wakes me up, and please don’t try to get up by yourself, okay?”

 

He shook his head. “I won’t.”

 

“Lay down. I'll tuck you in,” she said, giving a small grin and a wink.

 

The sweetness of both made him breathe a little easier and he slid up the bed a bit then laid down, stretching out while she held the covers up for him. Once she got him tucked in she leaned over, her hand coming up, fingers threading through his hair. Some was brushed off his forehead, more tucked behind his ear, all while those big beautiful heartbreaking eyes stared into his, stealing his breath. "Good night, Jon," she whispered, then her lips were pressed to his.

 

His heart stopped.

 

But it didn't keep the rest of him from being alive. His hand sunk into her hair, taking a gentle handful to hold her there as he kissed her back. Soft, and so slow, each second his lips touched and teased and tasted hers stretching into a blissful eternity. Her breath was sweet and warm, coming in quick pants, just as his did. She sucked his bottom lip between hers, a needy little whimper sounding in the back of her throat and it was all he could do not to pull her down on top of him, his broken body be damned.

 

She must have sensed it, or came to her own senses because she released him with a gasp, though she didn't go anywhere, still hovering, nose and lips brushing against his. “Goodnight, Dany," he breathed, heart throbbing behind his ribs as he reluctantly let her go. He had to, or he never would.

 

She stole one more kiss from his lips before she retreated, standing up in such a rush he worried she'd topple over. She didn't. "See you in the morning," she whispered and turned off his lamp.

 

"See you." He watched her as she left the room on quick feet. The hall light went out, a door somewhere further down from his closed quietly. A few minutes later a shower turned on right behind his head.

 

He closed his eyes and let out a groan.

 

_Dany, naked and wet, soapy hands running over her luscious body…_

 

_Fucking hell._

 

He needed a fucking distraction and quick. He grabbed his phone and sent the call through. It only took a ring and a half for Ned to pick up.

 

"Jon?"

 

"Hey, dad."

 

"Everything alright? I talked to Robb this morning, he said yours wasn't good."

 

He gave a chuff. It had been one long ass day. Felt like he'd left the hospital days ago, not hours. "It wasn't my best day, but it wasn't my worst."

 

Ned gave a low grunt of sympathy. A door clicked closed on his end, the faint sounds of a tv disappearing. "How are you feeling now? Robb talked like the pain was still bad. He's worried about you, so is your little sister."

 

"They always worry too much about me, you know that," he said with a sigh. "But I'm okay. Sore and achy, the headaches get bad sometimes, but the meds work for the most part."

 

He heard Ned take a deep breath, chair squeaking, papers shuffled around, his throat cleared. Jon knew what was coming before he even spoke. "Jon, promise me you—"

 

"I promise," he cut over him, "I don't want to go there anymore than you want me to."

 

"I know you don't."

 

"How's the boys?" he asked, moving them along.

 

"Fine. Playing video games, as always."

 

"Bran finish Elder Scrolls yet?" He had sent it to him for Christmas. It was one of the only ways for him to stay in their lives. He tried his best to spend a couple hours a week playing online with both of them. He'd missed them lately. Needed to get Gen or Robb to bring his Xbox over and hook it up. Maybe Dany didn't hate video games.

 

Ned let out a long sigh. "I have no idea, he plays so many and I've been swamped at work," he said, lowly, voice guilt ridden. A loud scratching came through the speaker. They both had the same nervous tick. That and beards were itchy.

 

"Busy, but good?"

 

"Yeah, things are going good. They should slow down soon. I'll come see you again when they do."

 

"You don't have to. You need some rest, not to drag yourself over here and back. Spend some time with them instead. I've got Robb, and Dany now, they'll keep me straight."

 

"How's that going? You and Dany?"

 

It was the perfect opening, exactly why he'd decided to call him, but now that she'd come up, he almost wanted to keep it all to himself, keep her to himself. What had grown between them was so new and fragile, he felt the need to protect it from the outside world, from anyone who might tear at it, or trample on it.

 

"Jon?"

 

"I love her," he blurted out, then cussed under his breath, throwing his arm over his eyes.

 

_So much for keeping things to himself._

 

Ned's response was muffled, the phone face down over his head. He put it back to his ear. "I'm sorry, what?"

 

He could almost hear him smiling. "I said I thought you might." There was a silent beat, or three, Ned waiting, Jon unable to force more words out. "I'm happy for you, son. She seems like a lovely girl," he told him quietly.

 

"Robb and Arya been dishing up my private life?"

 

"Well, I've talked to them both, but I already knew."

 

He scowled. "Dad, you were here two weeks ago."

 

"Yes, I was," he chuckled.

 

There was no point in disputing it, Jon was pretty sure he was right anyway. He'd been a goner from the moment he set eyes on her.

 

He swallowed at the lump in his throat. "So why the hell am I so scared?"

 

"I'd call you a fool if you weren't."

 

He could only huff. _He'd always been a fool._

 

"When it's real, Jon, it's as terrifying as it is wonderful," he told him.

 

He wasn't sure if that helped or not. "Dany and I, we're both—" he blew out a frustrated breath, "You already know what I'm like, but Dany… she's been through hell and back." His throat closed up on him, and even with her in the other room and his eyes closed he could see her. Beautiful and brittle and brave.

 

"Robb told me some, I hated to hear all of it."

 

"What if I just wind up causing her more pain?"

 

"That's not who you are, Jon."

 

"You're telling me I've never hurt you, or Robb, or Arya…"

 

"Any pain we've felt is because we love you, not from anything you've done to purposely hurt us," he said quietly. He sniffed and blew a breath through his nose. Jon could see him, eyes crinkled, mouth pressed into a wobbly smile. He scratched his beard again. Jon closed his eyes. "Does it hurt you to see Dany in pain?" he asked.

 

"Of course it does," he answered with a strained croak.

 

"Does that make you want to stop loving her?"

 

Jon didn't know why, but that question filled him with anger, like a hot coal smoldering in the pit of his stomach. "No."

 

Ned went quiet after his sharp answer. He'd probably pulled the phone away from his face to chuckle at him.

 _God_ , he felt thirteen again, Ned slowly but surely pulling his head out of his broody ass, helping him see reason. That was why he called him, after all.

 

"Do you think she loves you back?" he asked him after a moment or two.

 

"Maybe?" Jon could see her again, those eyes pouring out her heart, saying the one thing her mouth couldn't. "I think so, yeah, but she's scared to death. Afraid if she admits it I'll die on her."

 

"You know what I would tell her."

 

He did, and why he'd forgotten until then was shameful. He ran the back of his hand over his eyes, drawing in a deep breath before he put the phone back to his ear. "The only time you can be brave is when you're afraid."

 

"That help?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Grab it with both hands, Jon. What you're being given... most people never get," he said quietly.

 

He swallowed thickly. "I will."

 

"Goodnight, son. Love you."

 

"Love you too, dad."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	14. I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bathing that was promised, followed by a house call from a lady we all adore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peeks from under my rock. I won't apologize, my reasons aren't flaky ones, but I will explain. Life just hasn't been on my side as of late. My dad is dying so I'm spending my days on pins and needles waiting for the inevitable. I can usually retreat to this fictional world we all love so much, but things are getting too real and I'm having a hard time blocking them out. Can't get myself to focus for shit, but I'm trying. Add my own illness on top of it and things just suck. Your patience is much appreciated <3
> 
> Huge thanks to Ashley and Jalenmara for their gentle nudges on this chapter, and of course their friendship. I wouldn't be making it through these rough days without them. Love you ladies to the moon and back, and all my other tarts too!

 

 

I never thought that you would be the one

 to hold my heart

But you came around

And you knocked me off the ground from the start

You put your arms around me

And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go

You put your arms around me and I'm home

How many times will let you me change my mind 

and turn around

I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown

I hope that you see right through my walls

I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling

I'll never let a love get so close

You put your arms around me and I'm home

The world is coming down on me

And I can't find a reason to be loved

I never wanna leave you

But I can't make you bleed if I'm alone

You put your arms around me

And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go

I hope that you see right through my walls

I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling

I'll never let a love get so close

You put your arms around me and I'm home

 

Arms - Christina Perri

  


Jon woke to the smell of bacon and coffee wafting around his room, and a sweet voice floating into his ears. “Time to get up, sleepy head.” When he peeled his eyes open Dany was standing over him with a tray of food, and a soft smile on her face. 

 

 _What a beautiful sight to wake up to_.

 

“Good morning,” he croaked. His throat was not in the best of shape.

 

“Please tell me that’s not a sore throat I hear.” She sat the tray down on a small folding table that found its way into his room, then herself beside him.

 

“Only a little one,” he whispered. “I always wake up with a sore throat and stuffed up when I sleep somewhere new.”

 

She pulled a face, pouty and adorable. “How about some coffee to loosen things up, or would you rather have juice? I have both,” she offered while checking his forehead and cheeks for fever. “You’re not hot, thank God, but you are warm.”

 

“I’m okay, I promise," he assured her. "I don’t feel feverish or anything. Just stiff and sore like every morning for the past few weeks." He let out a groan while trying to sit up. She jumped in to help him. He'd fibbed about how sore he was. That cold air the night before had really done a number on him.

 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could fix you a hot bath to soak in, but I’m too afraid of you getting in and out of it. Maybe uh… after you eat I can help you… take a shower,” she said, a rosy blush dusting her cheeks. He'd love to tease her, but he wouldn’t. Hopefully, one day soon, holding back with her wouldn't be a _thing_. He was eagerly awaiting for it to come around.

 

“I’m sure I’m starting to stink, so I probably need one. I might be able to manage it by myself since you got that amazing shower put in.” 

 

It was a walk in shower that was even with the bathroom floor so there was nothing he needed to step over to get into. It had wide built-in seats, tile floor rough enough that slipping wouldn’t be a problem, two shower heads and a hand-held one mounted low on the wall, along with two handrails to help him get in and out and seated without falling. It was the perfect setup for him. That part of her remodel was definitely done with him in mind. He loved her all the more for it too.  

 

A smile spread across his face.

 

_He loved her. He loved Dany._

 

“No, sir. You’re not taking a shower by yourself yet. If you fell, I’d never get you back up, not to mention you’d wind up right back in the hospital. Maybe in a couple more weeks, but not yet." She smacked his arm, an embarrassed but playful snarl on her face. "And stop smiling like that, I know exactly what’s going through that head of yours. You’ll be covered with a towel and I’ll be in a bathing suit. There will be no naked time for you today.”

 

“That’s a pity,” he pouted, pulling his smile down to only a smirk. Her cheeks flamed red, and she jumped up off the bed and busied herself with his breakfast tray. He shouldn’t have teased her, but it _was_ fun while it lasted.

 

“Here you go. You said you liked a big breakfast with biscuits. I thought it would be easier for you to eat it this way,” she said, putting the tray down over his legs. There were three big fluffy biscuits filled with bacon, eggs, and cheese, along with a large portion of home fries, a cup of coffee, and a glass of orange juice.

 

_Did he mention he loved her?_

 

“Mmmmm, God bless you, you, beautiful woman. I hope you know how much you’re spoiling me. I may keep you.” He winked at her then picked up a biscuit and took a huge bite. His eyes closed, a moan slipping free as he savored it. It was the best damn biscuit he'd ever eaten. “Damn, Dany. Your cooking is amazing.” 

 

She was looking at him as if _he_ were the food, eyes dark and dilated, cheeks flushed. Her tongue peeked out to slide over her bottom lip then retreated, her teeth sinking into it. He wanted to moan again, for a much different reason.

 

 _How the hell was he going to make it through a shower if he could barely stand to watch her lick her lips? He was so screwed_.

 

She shook herself and let out a nervous chuckle. “Thanks. I’m gonna go clean the kitchen. Take your meds, they’re on the nightstand,” she blurted before hurrying out the door. 

 

Intent on being a model patient, he ate every bite of his delicious breakfast, Dany showing up again just as he finished, skittish as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. It was time to take their minds off the elephant in the room. 

 

“Breakfast was amazing, thank you. I’d bet anything you made those biscuits from scratch.” 

 

She relaxed a tiny bit with the neutral subject, and smiled when she saw nothing but crumbs on his plate. “You’re welcome. They’re my mama's biscuits. She taught me how to make them when I was ten or so. It took years, but I finally got them to be as good as hers,” she smiled, wistful and sad.

 

His mind sifted through memories, hunting for something, _anything,_ his mom taught him. Suddenly he could feel her wrapped around him as they sat on his bedroom floor, her hands over his, his shoelaces in their fingers. Her dark hair hung over his shoulder, smelling like fresh soap as she softly talked him through the steps. _"The bunny runs around the tree… sees a dog and jumps through the hole…"_

 

"Jon?"

 

"Hmm? Sorry, guess I'm still groggy."

 

She smiled at him while moving the tray back over to the table. "I’m glad you liked all of it. You deserve it after having to eat hospital food for so long," she said, but her smile faded away, her nerves taking over again. He really didn't know how to help ease them either, his own were ratcheting up to high alert, too. She looked at the floor fidgeting with her fingers. “Well, let’s get you in the bathroom.” 

 

“Dany, we don’t have to do this. I think I can figure out how to do it by myself,” he said, giving her an out.

 

“No, no I’m fine,” she waved him off, shaking her head then took a deep breath, “I refuse to let you get hurt on my watch, especially since you haven’t even been here a whole day, yet. Come on,” she told him, holding her hand out for him to take. 

 

They got him to his feet, but not without some groans from him. Everything hurt worse than usual. He should probably use the wheelchair, but it wasn't far, he'd tough it out.

 

Her cool hand rubbed up and down his back as they started toward the bathroom. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault you’re so sore. If I hadn’t fallen asleep outside…”

 

“Hush, I’ll be fine once I get a shower,” he told her softly, stopping to look down into her big blue eyes. “I could've woke you up, but I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you.” 

 

Her lips parted with a hushed gasp and he swore he could hear her heart thumping along with the fluttering pulse that danced in her throat. Her pupils had grown fat, cheeks flushed and _fucking hell_ , he wanted to kiss her so damn bad. Would have if he didn't have a case of morning breath.

 

The tension became too much and she looked away, urged him to move again. He scolded and comforted himself in equal measure. _Patience. Good things come to those who wait._

 

Once they made it to the bathroom she stopped and held the door open for him. “I’m gonna go change while you use the bathroom. There’s uh… small towel on the rack right there you can use. Be right back,” she said, and was gone in a flash.

 

He hurried through using the bathroom. She left the door open and he didn't want to risk giving her the Full Monty if she got back too quick. He pulled his boxers back up when he finished, there was no way he could get them off before she got back. The elastic made them hard to get off without pulling or pushing against the rod and pins in his leg unless he was sitting down. 

 

He decided to brush his teeth next. He didn’t want to gas her with his bad breath. Of course, when he looked down at the counter there was a new toothbrush, and his favorite brand of toothpaste beside it. She was doing everything she could think of to make him feel at home there. Just one more thing to love about her.

 

A knock came on the wall outside of the bathroom just as he finished up. “You decent?”

 

“Yep, come on in.” He nearly choked when she did. He couldn’t help it, she was in a damn bikini. A tiny black one with white polka dots. 

 

_Jesus, what had he done to deserve such sweet torment?_

 

“Okay, you. Snap out of it, we’ve got work to do,” she giggled as she walked over to get the towel she told him about.

 

_The back view might've been even better than the front._

 

Air rushed from his lungs, he swallowed hard. “You’re not making things easy on me you know that, right?” he asked, somehow managing to find his voice, strained though it was.

 

Her smirk couldn't have been more cheeky. “I know, but how do you think I’ve felt seeing your Adonis-like body every day for nearly three weeks?" she sassed, scowling now, a hand waving at him haphazardly. "I’ve had to suffer way more in that department than you have. I survived, and so will you. Now, hold this please,” she ordered, shaking the ends of the towel she was holding together at his right hip.

 

 _How did he miss her wrapping it around him? Oh yeah, she was half-naked. It was a miracle he still had blood circulating through his brain._  

 

He took a deep breath and took the ends of the towel from her.

 

“Hold tight. If that towel drops to the floor I’m gonna be dropping with it,” she muttered under her breath as she crouched down at his knees. 

 

He was too tense to laugh. Even his eyes were screwed shut. The view of her breasts filling out that bikini top was too much right that minute. That her hands were lightly running up the sides of his thighs was another matter altogether. By the time they reached the waistband of his boxers, he was no longer breathing, then she slipped her fingers underneath it and pulled.

 

_Dead puppies, dead PUPPIES, DEAD PUPPIES!_

 

He was seconds from begging her to stop so he could have a minute to calm himself when she tapped the ankle of his bad leg. It was only nerves and reflexes that caused him to pick it up for her. The rest of him was trying like mad to keep his dick under control so he didn’t wind up poking her in the eye. He let out a huge gust of air when she stood back up in front of him and began working on the strap of his sling.

 

“I’m gonna let you step out of the other leg when you walk in the shower. Let’s get this off, and then I’ll get the water warmed up,” she said, sounding much calmer than he felt. He wished he knew her secret. Maybe it was the bathing suit. She seemed to have a whole lot more confidence since she walked in with it on. Problem was, his flew out the window at the same time.

 

“Dany, maybe you should let me do this on my own,” he mumbled once she was back from turning on the shower. He kept his gaze on the floor. 

 

A soft hand cupped his cheek causing his eyes to lock with hers, round and wide and full of trust. “Jon, it's alright, trust me. We can do this together, okay?” 

 

“I don’t know if I trust myself,” he whispered. 

 

She snorted, eyes rolling. “Don’t give me that garbage, of course you do. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman with me, and I have no doubt you’ll continue to be. Now, come on before we run out of hot water,” she fussed, grabbing the towel ends with one hand, and handing him the crutch with the other. 

 

He wasn't so sure her ordering him around was helping the situation. She was sexy as hell when she took control.

 

He threw up a prayer he'd get through it without embarrassing himself and they made their way into the shower, her still holding the towel around his waist and him using the crutch. She led him to one of the seats, and he grabbed the handrail and lowered himself down. The hot water felt fucking amazing on his back. Once he was settled, she let go of the towel and put his crutch up against the back wall.

 

“Is the water too hot?” she asked, coming to stand between his legs. 

 

He forced his eyes up to hers so he wasn't staring at her beautiful breasts which were staring right back at him. The need he had to cup them in his hands, feel their weight, the softness beneath his palms… To pull the fabric aside, expose a rosy nipple, to lick and suck at it, hear her whimper and moan—

 

_Fuck, he had to get a grip._

 

He cleared his throat and gave her a strained smile. “It’s good,” he whispered, afraid his voice would crack if he tried to speak any louder.

 

“Okay, I’m gonna start with your hair first,” she told him, reaching for the handheld, and turning it on.

 

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as the water ran through his hair, hot and soothing. Soon enough it disappeared, and her fingers took its place, rubbing gently through his thick hair, nails lightly scraping against his scalp. 

 

 _Damn sight better than Nurse Nettie_. 

 

So much better he groaned with pleasure, a slight shudder ran through him, taking most of the tension with it.

 

“Feel good?” 

 

“Ummm hummm,” was all he managed. 

 

She gave a soft chuckle. “I bet so. I love having my hair washed, it’s so relaxing.” 

 

He grunted that time, too lost in the feel of it all. The familiar smell of his favorite shampoo–she'd apparently snooped for that as well as his toothpaste. The hot water easing aching muscles, her fingers sending shivers along his spine, the calming sound of the water raining down. Much more of it, and he would fall asleep. 

 

She left the hair over his scar for last, touches gentle when she got to it, then the water was back, flowing over his head, thick suds running down his back and arms. He opened his eyes when he felt her move from between his legs and over to his right side. She had a bright green loofah thing in her hand, pouring soap on it. She got it nice and sudsy before she looked at him. “Can you lean forward so I can do your back?”

 

He did as asked and she got right to work scrubbing, beating Miss Nettie by leaps and bounds again. Starting at his shoulders, she slowly worked down–long sweeping strokes mixed with slow circles–all the way down to the top of his ass. He was shocked when he felt her use the loofah to push the towel down to where it met the bench, but he didn’t say anything, just enjoyed her touch while trying not to enjoy it too much. 

 

Before he knew it, she was back in front of him, a gentle push to his right shoulder so he'd lean back against the shower wall where she had attached some kind of pillow. She reached over him, stretching to move the shower head to the side so the water wasn't pelting him in the face, his eyes catching on her every line and curve.

 

He had to force his hand to stay in his lap so he didn’t reach out and touch the tempting expanse of her stomach, waterdrops clinging, others making paths his fingers, lips, and tongue wanted to follow. Two silvery streaks laid just inside her right hip bone, the only blemishes he could find across the pale skin. It looked so soft and smooth. He wanted to feel it beneath his hands, rub his face against it, hear her laugh as he tickled her with his beard. 

 

Once she got the shower adjusted, she started washing again, silently gliding the loofah over his neck and shoulders, eyes on task, plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth. She was being so gentle and soft he almost wished she’d be rougher so it wouldn’t feel so good. Goosebumps had erupted over what felt like every inch of him, his blood running hot just beneath. Already hanging by a thread and he still wanted her to throw that damn loofah down, and use her hands on him. 

 

"Are you cold?" she whispered, apparently noticing the chill across his skin.

 

He shook his head and slowed his breathing down, hoping his heart rate would do the same.

 

But then she dropped to her knees between his legs and he almost choked again, the sight too much. "Dany, what're you doing?" he breathed, muscles locked down.

 

"Gonna wash your chest and legs," she said, as if it were nothing. 

 

It was _not_ nothing. 

 

She ran the loofah up his stomach, her other hand gripping his thigh, and he bit back a groan, convinced she was trying to kill him. It may have been easier for her to reach him that way, but it was hard as hell for him to keep his dick under control. There was only a few inches and a thin wet towel between it and her.

 

 _So fucking close, yet so fucking far away_. 

 

He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, forcing a stream of dead puppies and old naked people through his head as she slowly washed his abs and pecks. It worked until he felt her bare hand slide, slippery and soft, up his left side and under his arm, her thumb brushing across his nipple.

 

“Dany,” he grit out between his teeth. 

 

She startled for a second, then smiled the tiniest bit, slow and sweet. “I need to wash under your arm, the loofah’s too big. My hand isn’t,” she explained and kept up with the gentle motions between his arm and side. It may have been wishful thinking on his part, but her hand seemed reluctant to leave his skin, washing that particular spot for much longer than necessary. 

 

Finally she deemed it clean and moved to his other arm, asking him to lift it for her. It wasn't quite as torturous as the previous. Next she moved to his legs, doing nothing more than squeezing suds from the loofah and letting them run down his broken leg, over the rod and pins, but the other… 

 

Her hand was back, seeming to be playing tag with the loofah, both running and swirling over his skin, from foot, to shin, to knee, and then further still. He thought she'd only wash what wasn't covered, but then the loofah was under the towel and going up his inner thigh. He jumped and let out a grunt, his legs trying to shut on reflex. It caught her off guard and she gasped a surprised _OH!_ , eyes wide as apologies poured from her mouth and she fell back, catching herself on one hand.

 

"I'm sorry!"

 

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, gently, pulling her forward until she found her balance again. "It's okay, you just startled me. Tickled a bit," he said, playing it off. 

 

Blushing furiously, she avoided his gaze and stood back up. He released her wrist, watching her, worried he'd spooked her off. Instead of taking the handheld down to rinse him off like he figured she would she put the loofah in his right hand that he'd left hanging in the air like an idiot. “I’ll turn around so you can do the rest, when you’re done I’ll rinse you,” she told him quietly, turning around.

 

His own embarrassment growing–he'd been half hard the entire time–he flipped the towel off and hurried to get it done and over with, then covered himself back up again. “Okay, I’m done.” 

 

She turned around and went straight for the handheld, rinsing him off as planned. The hot water thankfully began to ease the tension he'd been holding onto so tightly, but it was over too quickly. He needed about an hour more of it to really calm down.

 

“You rinse under the towel while I go get us some dry ones,” she said handing him the handheld before walking out of the shower. 

 

He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed the experience was almost over. He didn’t know how in the hell he was going to be able to stand the tension every day, either. His balls would be so damned blue. He got his bits rinsed off, wishing the water was cold so he could have some help, but the hot water held out, leaving him on his own.

 

Dany walked over and took the handheld back, hanging it up again, then turned off the water. She grabbed his crutch and leaned it beside him, before holding her hand out for him to take.

 

He swallowed. “Um, if I let you help me up, this towel’s gonna fall off.”

 

“I know, I promise to keep my eyes closed. Once you’re standing you can help get one of these dry ones around you,” she said patting one of the towels hanging over her shoulders, her eyes already shut tight.

 

Nothing for it, he reached out and took her hand, closing his own eyes as he took a deep breath then pulled himself up. His eyes opened as he felt the towel sliding down his left leg. It hit the floor with a loud slap. Dany jumped. They both froze, her out of fear probably, him so he wouldn’t pull her luscious body against his naked one. He wanted so badly for her to open her eyes and look at him, but he felt like an ass for wanting it, too.

 

She let go of his hand and felt her way up his arm until she was touching his chest, then stepped closer to him. Making sure they were both steady first, she pulled one of the towels off her shoulder opening it up, one end in each hand. “You hold this end,” she whispered, holding the end on his right side out to him.

 

He took it from her, waiting to see what she was gonna do with her end. She slowly reached out with her left hand until it touched his stomach then took another step closer, nearly putting them skin to skin as she reached behind his back with her other hand, and wrapped the towel around his hips.

 

He'd long since stopped breathing, feeling hers coming out in little pants that cooled the wet skin of his chest.  Having her so close was such sweet torture. It took everything in him not to pull her the rest of the way against him, to crush his lips to hers.

 

He closed his eyes instead, and leaned his cheek against her hair as she took his end of the towel and twisted it tightly with the other, securing it snugly to his hips. As soon as she was done she pulled away, her cheeks stained a beautiful pink as she looked at him with dark hooded eyes. He couldn’t take anymore. 

 

“Dany,” her name left his lips sounding deep and strained, begging her for what, he didn’t know. 

 

_She needed to run, but he wanted so fucking badly for her to stay._

 

Giving him what he wanted most, she stepped closer again, pressing her softness against him. He couldn’t help but wrap an arm around her to keep her there. She kissed the skin over his heart, not knowing it was already hers, then leaned back to look up at him while reaching up to rub her thumb across his cheekbone.

 

“How are you doing it?” she asked, searching his eyes for an answer.

 

“Doing what?” 

 

She stretched up toward him, until her lips were only a breath away from his. “Taking away my fears,” she whispered, and kissed him.

 

\---

  


If Jon wasn’t holding her up she’d probably be a puddle on the floor. Just getting to that moment had been twenty minutes of pure torture. The most delicious kind. How she kept from throwing the loofah down to rub every inch of his insanely beautiful body with her hands, she'd never know. She'd been nearly shaking with the need to do so.

 

When she wrapped the towel around him she was hanging by a thread, then he'd said her name the way he did, a plea and a command all at once, spoken in that deep velvet voice of his. She had no choice but to go to him, her fears melted away to nothing. All because of him, the beautiful, amazing man who was holding her so tightly, yet, so gently, too.

 

Heart pounding in her ears, stomach convinced it had taken the first plunge off a roller coaster, she'd suddenly forgotten how to breathe. Yet she didn’t think she'd ever felt more alive than she did right that second. Somewhere inside of her, she knew her life had just changed forever.

 

Jon seemed to be feeling much the same. His heart hammering within his chest through to hers, his whole body shuddering as she slid her tongue along the seam of his full lips. His breath caught, but he didn’t let it stop him. Slowly, his tongue met hers, tentative and tender, then again and again, soft and smooth, lips pressing then pulling. He was being so gentle with her, as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever known.

 

Her heart clenched painfully as she fought back tears. She knew if she didn’t press for more, she'd wind up falling to pieces, and scaring him to death. Tightening her grip on the back of his neck, she sank her tongue into his mouth before sucking his deeply into hers. She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her, head spinning, the world tilting under her feet. 

 

Jon growled in return and went from sweet and tender to hot and demanding, his hand gripping her hair, angling her so he had easier access, his lips hard and insistent, taking instead of giving. 

 

She wasn't going to fall to pieces. No, she would go up in flames instead.

 

Why had she made them wait so long? What an idiot she'd been! Now that she'd tasted him, she didn’t think she ever wanted to stop. And from the way Jon was kissing her back, he didn’t either. His hands were gripping her just the way she'd imagined them doing so many times, driving her crazy. She could feel his need for her building with each squeeze and grip of flesh they took. His breathing ragged, moans loud. Not to mention his cock making its presence well known between them, thick and hard, pressed into her stomach. He wanted her every bit as much as she did him. 

 

Then it hit her. _He was using both hands_.

 

“Jon, your shoulder,” she gasped, as he released her mouth to lick and nibble his way from her jaw to her neck.

 

“Screw my shoulder,” he growled into her ear.

 

“You’re… gonna… hurt yourself,” she panted. He had found a spot below her ear, and was suckling on it just so. Lips and tongue and teeth. All her muscles were turning to mush, liquid heat pooling low.

 

Jon shifted and it was as if her words had been a curse. He suddenly roared in pain, jumping back from her, stumbling onto his good leg, both of his arms flying out on instinct to help him balance. 

 

“Oh God! _Jon!_ Here, lean on me!” She hurried and gathered him against her as best she could. “I’ve got you. Just breathe. Breathe,” she tried to soothe him, rubbing her hands over his head and back as he leaned his forehead against one shoulder, his good arm thrown over the other as he heaved and groaned through the pain.

 

Minutes passed, though they felt like hours as she held him up, still whispering to him, until his breathing finally became somewhat more even. “Do you think you can stand with the crutch a second? I’ll run get the wheelchair for you,” she offered when she thought he might be able to stand it.

 

He nodded his head where it still rested on her shoulder, but stayed silent other than his quick heavy breathing. That wasn't good, it would be better if he was cussing a blue streak. If he was that quiet…  

 

She stretched her arm out as far as she could without moving him and managed to reach the crutch, then helped him get it under his arm. He finally pulled away, head still hanging, his breathing growing erratic again. It broke her heart seeing him like that and it was her fault he was hurting. She took his head in her hands and kissed his temple. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.” 

 

She ran out of the shower as fast as she could with wet feet down the hall to the foyer to get his chair. She wasn't even gone thirty seconds, but it felt like thirty minutes before she made it back to him. He was still where she left him, but he was pale as a ghost.

 

_Son of a bitch, this is bad!_

 

She got the chair into the shower, placing it as close as possible to him then set the brakes. Going up to his right side she leaned over so she could see his face, it was soaking wet and not all of it was from the shower. He was sweating bullets. “Jon, honey, do I need to call an ambulance?” she asked, beyond worried. He shook his head short and quick. She knew he didn’t want to go back there, but thought maybe she should call anyway. 

 

 _Shit!_ She didn’t know what to do. She'd get him in bed first, and see how he did, then call Dr. Luwin. If he thought they should go, then they were going whether Jon wanted to or not. She'd call an ambulance if she had to.

 

“Alright, I got the chair. You think you can get in it, or do you need a few more minutes?” she whispered, brushing his wet hair off his forehead. She only got a slight shake of his head again for an answer. That was when the smell hit her. She looked down to see he’d thrown up. He had to have done it right after she ran out the door.

 

_They were never kissing again unless his ass was glued to the bed or a chair!_

 

She left him there and grabbed a couple of washcloths, wetting them with cold water, then hurried back to him and laid one around his neck, using the other to wipe his face, hoping the coolness would help some.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, as she wiped his mouth to make sure he was cleaned up.

 

“Don't you dare," she gently scolded. "This is not your fault. I’m the one who’s sorry. I am so, so sorry. If we can get you to the bed I have some morphine I can give you. Dr. Luwin sent it with me for emergencies. You let me know when you’re ready,” she whispered, still wiping his face. 

 

Her voice was starting to shake and her eyes were blurry with tears, but she refused to let them fall right then, it would only upset him more, and she was not having that. Finally, he lifted his head and straightened his body some. She stayed where she was, giving him time, but kept fanning him with the washcloth. 

 

“I think I’m ready,” he whispered. 

 

She threw the washcloth down, and glued herself to his right side to help him. “The chair is behind you, to the left. We need to turn about ninety degrees, then you can sit, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” he groaned. She helped him twist around, and move back one or two steps then eased him into the chair. He was still pale, sweaty, and keeping himself really stiff, but she saw him relax a tiny bit when she got his leg into the leg rest. Thank God, it didn’t look bent or swollen from what she could see. There wasn’t any redness either. All of that made her feel much better.

 

She slowly and gently rolled him from the bathroom to his bedroom, right up to the side of the bed. As she set the brake he let out a groan. 

 

“You feeling sick again?” she asked, keeping her voice soft. 

 

He nodded one time then leaned forward. She grabbed up the trash can, and sat it between his legs before she ran back to the bathroom for more wet washcloths, and back again. She spread one out onto his back then folded the other one, and pressed it to his forehead. They stayed like that for several minutes, him groaning, and her waving washcloths to keep them cool–bathing his face, neck, and back with them.

 

The nausea eventually passed and his color began to come back. He sat up and leaned his head against her stomach, letting out an exhausted sigh. She ran one hand over his hair, and cupped his cheek with the other. Her heart ached for him so much. As bad as things were in the hospital, he never once threw up, or had such bad nausea. 

 

It had to be the pain pills. She'd be on the phone the second she got him settled, she was not having this.

 

“You want to try the morphine now? Or do you want to get in bed first?” she asked, still stroking his hair.

 

“Both.” 

 

“Well, it’s a shot, and Dr. Luwin said it had to go in your hip or thigh, and I have no idea how fast it’ll hit you so we better get you in bed first, okay?” He groaned, and pulled away, sitting up. She kissed the top of his head. “Let me get the crutch. We’re not doing this without it,” she told him, and ran to the bathroom. Once she made it back she moved the trash can, then squatted down and carefully moved his leg out of the leg rest, before folding it out of the way. She looked up at him, and he looked so pitiful she had to fight back the tears again. She swallowed hard. “You ready?” 

 

“Yeah.” He nodded, reaching his hand out to her. 

 

She stood up, and took one step back so she could brace herself then grabbed his hand. He closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and pulled himself up. She quickly gave him the crutch, even though all he had to do was turn sideways and sit down. She was not taking any more chances, especially with how weak he was.

 

He stood still as she moved the wheelchair out of the way, then helped him turn and sit down. She should've tried to get some clothes on him since he was still in nothing but a damp towel, but she couldn’t stand the thought of putting him through it. 

 

She did put his sling back on. She'd grabbed it when she got the crutch. At least she could get it on him without making him move. When that was on, he scooted up the bed a bit while she held his neck to help ease him all the way down onto the bed. She kissed his head again before going to get the morphine out of their ‘doctor bag’, as Miss Nettie called it.

 

She'd never given anyone a shot in her life, and she was not looking forward to it, but it would stop his pain which is what he needed most right then. She couldn't help but worry she was doing the wrong thing though. 

 

_What if he still had too much of the other meds in his system, and she couldn’t mix the two? God! She could OD him!_

 

She went back over to him and stroked his hair. “I’m gonna call Dr. Luwin real quick. I have to know if it’s okay to give this to you since you had the other painkiller. Can you hang on a few more minutes?” She hated like hell to make him wait, but she couldn’t make things worse. She had to call. He nodded so she kissed his forehead, and laid the morphine on the nightstand before going to get the phone. 

 

She paced the hallway outside his room while she waited for someone to pick up. Dr. Luwin's nurse answered after three rings. She quickly explained what was going on and was told to hang on a minute, she’d be right back. When the hold music clicked off Dr. Luwin on the line.

 

“Miss Targaryen, can you tell me the situation please?” he asked, getting right to the point.

 

“Hi, Dr. Luwin. Umm, Jon made the mistake of putting all his weight on his broken leg while we were getting him showered. He’s in a lot of pain, and I need to know if I can give him the morphine you sent. He already had one pain pill this morning with breakfast, but he threw up all of that when his pain got so bad. Is it safe to give him the morphine? Or do you think I should call an ambulance?” she rushed out.

 

“How long ago did he take the pain pill?” he asked calmly.

 

“Ummm, maybe half an hour tops.”

 

“You may give him the morphine, but only a third of what is in the syringe. I am going to send a nurse out to check on him within the next few hours. She will have a portable X-ray machine, and can make sure no further damage has been done. I doubt very seriously there has been. She will let me know her assessment, and we will go from there. You did well to call me first. Stay close to the phone, I’ll have the nurse call you for directions. Keep a careful eye on him as well, and call me back if you feel a need to,” he told her.

 

“Okay, thank you so much,” she breathed out shakily.

 

“You’re welcome. I will speak with you soon.”  

 

She leaned up against the wall, fighting back tears again. _All this hell for one kiss_. It was the most amazing one she'd ever had, but it still wasn’t worth him getting hurt over. She took another deep breath, centering herself, then got back to Jon.

 

He was lying so still and quiet it looked as if he'd fallen asleep, but the tension in his beautiful face told her he wasn't. She brushed her fingers over his cheek until he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

 

“You can have some morphine. Dr. Luwin is sending a nurse out to check on you, too. Do you have a preference on where I do this?” she asked, not able to keep the shakiness out of her voice.

 

“My hip, I guess. Are you okay doing it? I don’t want you having to do it if you don’t want to. I can wait for the nurse,” he told her, his voice strained.

 

“Jon, do you seriously think I’m going to let you lay here in pain when I can make it stop? Miss Nettie showed me how one day when you were sleeping, I’ll be fine,” she said with false bravado. “You’re gonna need to turn to the side so I can get to you though. Do you want some help?”

 

He nodded, so she worked to get him turned onto his right side propping him up with several pillows. His face remained a tense mask, and he hissed and groaned throughout the whole process. Once she had him settled she got one of the washcloths and wiped the sweat from his face and neck again, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. “It’ll be better soon, hang on a few more minutes.”

 

She stood up and gathered her courage. She needed to do this for him. All she had to do was pull the towel down his hip a little ways. She could pull it up, and get to where she needed to be much easier, but… nope. His gorgeous body was part of the reason they were in the mess they were in as it was. She grabbed the syringe and held it between her teeth then tried to gently tug the towel down.

 

“Can you pull it loose and leave it laying over me?" he asked, looking up at her. "It’ll be easier for you, and it will stop hurting my hip bone where I’m laying on it, too."

 

She froze for a second, then shook herself and reached under him on either side of his slim waist, and slowly pulled it loose. Being so close to his nearly naked body again was nerve wracking in a good way. Him being in pain overrode that though. She made sure none of the towel was under him anymore, but kept him covered, only exposing his left hip. Next was the alcohol pad, she tore it open and rubbed it over his skin, then tossed it onto the nightstand. Curing her shaking hands, she took the syringe out of her mouth and pulled the cap off the needle. 

 

_Thank God, it was a tiny, thin one. She'd probably faint if it was a big one._

 

Breathing deep, she held it straight up and tapped the air out like Miss Nettie showed her, then gently and slowly squeezed the plunger until a drop ran out and over the top. She looked down at him. He was looking right back at her, his eyes bright with pain. “You ready?” she asked with as much calm as she could muster, even though she felt anything but. 

 

He nodded again, closing his eyes, relaxing as much as he could into his pillow.

 

_All right, here we go Dany, you can do this._

 

She pinched some of his hip between her fingers. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him so she had to pinch harder than she wanted to get enough. She lowered the needle to just above his skin. “Deep breath,” she told him, or maybe both of them, and quickly jabbed it in as gently as possible. He flinched, but stayed quiet. “Sorry," she squeaked and winced while slowly squeezing the plunger until she got the right doses in, then quickly slid the needle out. 

 

_Thank God, that was over._

 

Feeling like she could breathe again, she pressed another alcohol swab over it, and held it there for a bit. There was hardly any bleeding when she wiped it off so she pulled the towel back over him. “All done,” she whispered to him, leaning over and kissing his temple, once she'd capped the syringe again. “Do you need anything else?” she asked, pulling the sheet up to his waist.

 

“Mouthwash,” he whispered back. 

 

She ran and got him a cap full and an empty cup for him to spit it into, then carefully got into bed with him so he didn’t have to turn over. She helped him drink it, wiping away what dribbled out, then held the cup up for him. He swished for a while, then spit. She wiped his mouth one more time then left the cap and cup on the other nightstand behind her.

 

“Better?”

 

“Yes, thank you. Stay with me?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

 

“I was going to, but I need to get out of this wet suit so I don’t ruin your bed. I’ll be right back, okay? I promise,” she told him, reaching for his hand, and kissing his fingers once they laced with hers.

 

“Hurry,” he whispered.

 

“I will,” she promised with another kiss to his fingers, then let him go. 

 

She hurried to her room and peeled off her cold wet suit, leaving it in a pile on the floor. Panties and bra went on first, a T-shirt and some soft shorts next. She needed to be decent for the nurse when she showed up. She stopped by the bathroom and ran a brush through her hair real quick, and shook it out. Maybe it wouldn’t look too wild when she got here, not that she cared much.

 

She tiptoed into Jon’s room in case he was already asleep, but he opened his eyes as soon as the floor squeaked beneath her feet. She pulled the covers back, and slid in beside him, only letting her top half get close to him. She was keeping far away from his leg for a while.

 

“Is the pain any better yet?” she asked, reaching over, and running her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and sighed. 

 

“Maybe a little.” His eyes opened again, and he tried to smile but it was pitiful. “I’m sorry I screwed up our kiss.”

 

As if her heart wasn't broken enough already… 

 

“Jon. You didn’t. It was the most amazing kiss I’ve ever had,” she told him honestly.

 

“It was?” he asked, surprised.

 

“Yes, it was. It breaks my heart you got hurt. I should’ve made sure you were sitting down first. It’s my fault, not yours. We’ll do better next time even though you probably don’t even want there to be a next time,” she joked with him.

 

“Yes, I do,” he said defensively, his brow drawn down over his eyes. Then his expression softened. “I could kiss you like that forever if you’d let me,” he whispered, making her heart clench.

 

She braced herself on her elbow and leaned over, kissing his lips softly. “I very well may, but only if you’re sitting or lying down from now on,” she insisted, giving him a stern look. 

 

His smile became a little less pitiful. “Just until my leg is healed, then all bets are off.”

 

“Okay,” she agreed with a soft chuckle, running her fingers through his hair again.

 

“Have I ever told you I love it when you do that? Please don’t stop,” he whispered.

 

She smiled through watery eyes. “I won’t. Now, go to sleep.” She watched as his lids got heavier and heavier until they closed and his breathing became slow and deep. She laid down and stared at him, thinking she'd never get used to how beautiful he was, even more so when he was sleeping peacefully. 

 

A flood of emotions washed over her as she studied him, and if she was totally honest with herself she would admit what that emotion was, but she couldn’t yet. It was there, waiting patiently for her to acknowledge it, and she would.

 

 _She would._  

 

She knew she'd have no choice. Between him and her heart, she didn’t stand a chance. For now, tears seem to be all she could manage. Feeling so much after being numb or terrified for so long was overwhelming. Add their sexually charged, but disastrous morning on top of it, and she was a mess quietly sobbing into her pillow.

 

“Shhhhh, hummingbird. It’ll be okay,” he whispered sleepily. 

 

She raised her head out of the pillow, scowling in confusion. His eyes weren’t even open, and his breathing was still deep and even, but his fingers were playing with some of her hair. She wasn't sure where the _hummingbird_ came from, but smiled despite her tears. Even asleep he was breaking down her walls.

 

She didn’t know how he was doing it, but he was unraveling all her knots like he said he would. Her heart told her it was just Jon being Jon. He was like her champion, always there for her no matter what, challenging her to fight for more, holding her when the fight became too much. 

 

Now more than ever she believed Gendry’s description of him. He was a peaceful, refreshing, gentle rain. Being close to him calmed all her fears, and he was much louder than the demons that haunted her. Even a smile from him made them run and hide.

 

She was still sad and afraid, but being with him… She felt happiness again. That elusive creature that had evaded her for so long. Now she was both sad and happy instead of always standing at the brink of the abyss. That was a huge step forward from where she'd been the past two years. And the hope he was sowing within her grew with each minute she spent with him, too. She felt as if she was coming back from the dead.

 

It wasn't just hope and happiness he was stirring within her anymore though.

 

She'd gotten a taste of his hidden side that morning. Jon could be a raging fire when he wanted to be. She wasn't sure which side she liked better, the fire or the rain. Thankfully she didn’t have to choose, but she easily could've let his fire consume her earlier. She'd never felt need that strongly before. She had a feeling it was going to be extremely hard to control herself around him from now on. 

 

There was something she was certain of… If Jon wanted, she would let him love her forever. And if she would let herself, she could love him back. Both were scary prospects, but she wasn't going to run anymore. Not where he was concerned.

 

Her decision made, she laced her fingers with his, and drifted off to sleep.

  
  


\---

  
  


A loud repetitive noise woke her up. She scrambled off the bed looking for her phone, but quickly realized it wasn't ringing, and there wasn’t a missed call. The noise came again, startling her. Someone was knocking on the front door.

 

Jon was still sleeping hard so she got up and hurried to the door. Looking through the glass she saw Robb standing there instead of the nurse she expected. She opened it and attempted a smile. “Hey, Robb. Come on in,” she greeted before turning and padding toward the kitchen. 

 

_She needed coffee._

 

“Hey. I brought y’all some lunch from the Mexican place. Sorry, looks like I woke you up. Rough night?” he asked, setting the bags on the table.

 

“Rough morning, actually,” she answered, pouring herself a mug from the coffee pot. Thankfully, she'd left it turned on. Maybe it wasn’t too scorched. She turned toward Robb, and raised her eyebrows along with her mug, silently asking him if he wanted some, but he shook his head. She sat down heavily in the closest kitchen chair. “Thanks for the food. That was sweet of you.” It smelled fantastic, and _almost_ made her hungry. She knew it would only sit heavy in her stomach if she ate then, she needed to know Jon was okay first. She got back up and put the food in the fridge.

 

Robb gave her time to sit back down and take a few sips of her coffee. “What happened and where’s your patient?”

 

“He’s sleeping off some morphine after his disastrous shower earlier,” she sighed. 

 

His eyes went round. “Shit. What happened? He didn’t fall, did he?”  

 

She shook her head. “No, not that bad. He got distracted and wound up putting all his weight on his bad leg, flung his arms out to catch himself, so got his shoulder too. It was the steps all over again, puke and all,” she sighed again. 

 

_Puke she should've cleaned up already. Ugh._

 

“Damn. He can’t catch a fucking break. What distracted him? I'd think he'd be super careful in the shower.” 

 

She attempted to hide her blush behind her coffee cup as she shrugged.

 

_Damnit, he was grinning._

 

“He wasn’t taking a shower by himself was he, Dany?” he asked, his grin getting bigger.

 

“No, he has to have help, Robb. You know that,” she answered defensively.

 

“Y’all weren’t, you know…?” He rolled his hand in the air, that shit-eatin’ grin still firmly in place.

 

“Robb! No, we were not, you perv! For God sake, he’s got two broken bones. He’s kind of out of commission right now.” 

 

She and Robb had developed a sibling sort of relationship in the last few weeks–all the hours sitting around together, phone calls for check ins and such. She knew he was just picking at her, but her walls were laying in heaps after her stressful morning full of worry.

 

He threw his hands up defensively. “Okay, okay. Something had to distract him though, and I can guess what it was," he snickered.

 

She slapped a hand down on the table. “We were kissing, you nosy jerk! I had on a bathing suit, and he had a towel wrapped around him. We were decent! It was just a kiss! Happy now?” she growled at him as she fought back tears. 

 

_Son of a bitch, why did she have to cry when she was angry!?_

 

“Aw, Dany. Don’t get upset. I’m sorry, okay?" he was quick to backpedal. "Please don’t cry. Jon will kick my ass if you do, as soon as he’s able to anyway. I’m sorry.” 

 

She wiped at her eyes, staring up at the ceiling as she took a few deep breaths. “It’s my fault he got hurt. I kissed him first, even though I warned him to be careful. It’s just been a long day already. I’m worried about him, and exhausted, too. I’ll be fine once the nurse gets here and tells me he didn’t do any more damage,” she sniffled.

 

“How’d you manage to get a nurse to come out here?”

 

“I called Dr. Luwin to let him know what happened, and to see if I could give Jon the morphine he sent with us. He’s sending one with a portable x-ray machine. Hopefully we won’t have to go back to the hospital.” 

 

“Well, sounds like my idea is gonna come in handy then. Bringing a big machine up those stairs would be a bitch. I brought a couple of ramps from some old box trucks we have so Jon won’t have to deal with anymore stairs,” he told her.

 

Her frustration with him vanished like a whiff of smoke. “Really? Robb, that’s awesome. Thank you. Now I won’t have to call you every time I need to take him somewhere,” she said with a smile.

 

“Yeah, but that’s not why I did it," he sighed, and shook his head. "I couldn’t stand thinking about making him go up and down those stairs again. It was awful seeing him in so much pain."

 

She reached out and rubbed his hand. “You’re a good brother.” Her phone rang making her jump, but she quickly recovered. It was the nurse needing the address to put into her GPS. “She should be here in about twenty minutes," she told Robb as soon as she hung up. "I’m gonna go check on him, then start cleaning the bathroom."

 

“All right, I’ll get those ramps unloaded. Mind if I stick around to see what she says?”

 

“Of course not. You’re welcome anytime.” She rubbed his shoulder before turning toward the hall. “You know where to find us when you’re done.” 

 

He waved then headed outside.

 

Jon was still sleeping peacefully when she checked on him. She couldn't resist leaning over and kissing his cheek.

 

“Dany,” he mumbled.

 

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” she whispered, stroking his hair. She stayed with him for a minute or two until she was sure he was out again, then headed to the bathroom to clean it up. She found a few old threadbare towels under the sink, and used them to wipe up the mess in the shower floor. Then threw them in a trash bag and tied it off tightly. Cleaning up puke two days in a row, while not her favorite activity, wasn’t the most horrible thing she'd ever done.

 

 _Thank goodness, she didn’t have much of a gag reflex_.

 

She turned the shower all the way on hot, and left it running for a while to wash anything she might have missed down the drain. She'd disinfect it later. Gathering up all the wet towels, and their dirty clothes she started a load of laundry. That done, she went back and peeked at Jon. 

 

He was still breathing peacefully. She decided to sit in the living room until the nurse showed, so as not to leave Robb hanging out by himself. She stretched out, and laid her head back with her eyes closed trying to catch whatever rest she could. A few minutes later Robb came back in and sat down on the other sofa. She waved at him in acknowledgment, but never opened her eyes. He huffed out a laugh in response, but stayed quiet after that.

 

She didn’t get much rest, another knock sounded at the front door a few minutes later. Robb offered to get it, but she waved him off and went to answer it.

 

It was the nurse as she expected. What she didn’t expect was how old she would be. Her voice should have given her age away on the phone, but apparently she'd been too out of it to notice. 

 

“Olenna Tyrell. Is this the Snow residence?” she asked, abruptly.

 

“Umm yes, sort of. Jon is here. I’m Dany, please come in,” she invited her, holding the door open.

 

The older lady entered a few steps then stopped, staring up at Robb with a critical eye. “Well, you can’t be him since you’re upright. Where’s my patient?” 

 

Dany grinned at Robb as she shut the front door. “This is Jon’s brother, Robb Stark. Robb, this is Miss Tyrell.”

 

His head gave a tilt, his brow furrowed much like Jon's was prone to do. Miss Tyrell stared him down, eyebrows raised and nodded, just slightly. The color drained from Robb's face and he swallowed hard. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he greeted her, all proper. 

 

_What in the world?_

 

Miss Tyrell huffed at him. “Well, I don't know what she sees in you, you look like a lumberjack.” 

 

Confusion aside, Dany managed to stifle a giggle as Robb smiled warily at the older woman. He cleared his throat. “Yes ma’am, I get that a lot." He stepped over to the door, reaching for it. "Do you need any help with the x-ray machine?” he asked.

 

“No, got it right here,” she said, lifting up the big bag she was carrying. 

 

She and Robb looked at her with surprise, but Dany quickly moved on to her patient. “Jon’s this way, Miss Tyrell,” she told her as she pointed toward the hall.

 

“ _Doctor_ Tyrell,” she said gruffly.

 

“Oh, excuse me, I’m so sorry. Dr. Luwin told me he was sending a nurse,” Dany apologized.

 

“Yes, well, I decided to come see the…" she gave Robb another once over, "patient myself,” she said then turned to Dany. “Lead the way, blondie. I don't have all day.”

 

_Oh boy, she was a hoot!_

 

Dany motioned her down the hall, waving her ahead. "First door on the left, Dr. Tyrell." They all headed to Jon’s room, Dany following the doctor, Robb bringing up the rear. He stopped in the doorway and leaned against the frame, staying out of the way. Jon was sound asleep still, his heavy breathing easily heard. 

 

The doctor set her bag on the floor and pulled out what looked to be a kid’s video game. Just a screen with two handles, one on each side. Dany assumed it was the x-ray machine. Dr. Tyrell reached for Jon’s covers.

 

“He’s naked!” Dany squeaked, a bit too late. 

 

The sheet and towel were both flung off Jon, and the bed, leaving them with a very eye-opening view. “I’ve seen thousands of them, nothing new to me,” Dr. Tyrell grumbled. 

 

Completely ashamed of herself, Dany stood frozen in place, unable to do anything but stare at Jon’s naked body. At least he was turned away and she couldn’t see his manly bits. But his ass was hard to miss. It may have become her new favorite part of him. It was that perfect. Award winning even. And his back was—

 

“I can’t wait to tell him about this when he wakes up,” Robb whispered in her ear, making her jump. 

 

She didn’t even need to see him to know _another_ shit-eatin’ grin was on his face. She could hear it in his voice. She turned around and scowled at him while jabbing her elbow into his stomach. _Hard._ He laughed quietly.

 

 _Dickhead_.

 

She went over and pulled the towel out of the sheet and covered Jon back up with it, saving his dignity, and hers too. 

 

“Worried I’m gonna steal your man, blondie?” Dr. Tyrell asked as she held the screen over Jon’s leg. “He’s prettier than the lumberjack over there. That was the nicest ass I've seen in a long time,” she smirked, making her eyebrows jump. "Shame to cover it up."

 

From the sneak peek she got, Dany couldn’t help but agree, though she wouldn't say it out loud. Trying not to blush was more important. 

 

“How does it look?” she asked, getting them back on track. “Please tell me there’s no more damage. He’ll be so upset if he has to go back to the hospital.” 

 

Her questions were ignored, Jon’s shoulder taking higher priority, the doctor lightly pressing on it, and then viewing it through the machine for a few minutes. When Dany looked at the screen she could easily see the fractures in his shoulder blade, but they looked better than the first x-rays she'd seen of it at the hospital.

 

Dr. Tyrell turned to her. “Wake him up for me, girlie. He won’t startle if you do it. He needs to turn over, too. I can’t reach him like that,” she said then backed up. 

 

She hated to wake him up, but it was for the best. She leaned over close to his ear and brushed his hair back. “Jon. You need to wake up, sweetie.”

 

“Mmmmm.”

 

“Wake up for a few minutes, okay? The doctor needs to talk to you,” she encouraged him gently, rubbing his back.

 

“Who needs to talk to me?” he almost whined.

 

“Dr. Tyrell. Dr. Luwin sent her out here to check on your leg. She needs you to wake up and turn over for her,” she explained. 

 

He peeled his eyes open, and looked over his shoulder at her. “Help me turn over?” he asked groggily. She made sure the towel was going to keep him covered, then helped him move his good leg over the bad one. Robb jumped in to help him with his upper body. Jon stared at him wild-eyed, but he didn’t groan as much as he did before the morphine, so at least she knew he was in less pain.

 

The doctor shooed Robb and her away and moved to stand next to Jon. To say he was confused would be an understatement, bless his heart. 

 

“All right, relax. I’m only checking your heart rate and breathing,” she said in a much nicer tone than she’d used with Dany and Robb. She must have been satisfied with what she heard because she put her stethoscope up then looked back at Jon. “You awake enough to pay attention, pretty boy?” she asked him. Poor Jon only nodded. “What about you, blondie. You listening?” she asked, looking over at Dany.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“All right, here’s what you’re gonna do.” She looked back at Jon. “No more walking around for the next three days. You either stay in this bed, in the wheelchair, or on the sofa. The only time you need to be upright is when you’re moving from one to the other." She waved a gnarled hand over his leg. “I don’t see any significant new damage in the leg or your shoulder. There is a good amount of inflammation, though. The leg needs to be elevated ninety percent of the time, and I want this sling off your shoulder. The strap’s putting too much pressure on it. I have some wrap out in my car we can use to strap your upper arm to your chest. You’ll be able to use your lower arm that way as long as you go easy with it," she told them. 

 

"Oh, that will help a lot," Dany cut in, relieved.

 

Olenna raised an eyebrow at her, apparently not impressed with being interrupted. Dany closed her mouth and stepped back. The doctor looked at Jon again. "I’ll come back and check on you Friday afternoon to see how you’re doing. Until then I’m going to suggest no PT this week. It’ll only irritate things more. I think that covers it. Any questions?” she asked, looking back and forth between them.  

 

Jon just stared at her, so Dany jumped in. “Is there a different pain killer he can take?  He’s thrown up twice since he started taking it. That’s way too hard on him with the amount of pain he’s already in, he needs something else.”

 

“Can I see what he's taking?" Dany grabbed the bottle from the dresser and handed it over to her. Doctor Tyrell rolled her eyes. "This one makes most everyone sick. I’ll write him out some scripts for a few different ones, and you can see what helps him the most. I’ll add in Zofran, too, just in case. Get him settled, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen. See you in a few days, pretty boy. Behave yourself,” she said to Jon, patting his thigh.

 

“I will,” he answered her, still sounding unsure. 

 

Dany watched as Doctor. Tyrell pulled on Robb’s shirt to encourage him to follow her as she muttered something about love birds, and probably being back before nightfall. Whatever she said must have been funny. Robb’s nervous laughter echoed in from the hallway.

 

She sat down beside Jon. “You okay?” she asked softly, rubbing his stomach slowly.

 

His eyes darted around, then finally landed on hers. “Yeah, I think so. I could have sworn I was in some crazy dream for a while there,” he told her.

 

She laughed a little. “That morphine gets you every time, huh? Even so, she’s a hoot for sure. I think she knows Robb, or someone he does anyway." He didn't respond, his lids drooping low. "You need anything? The pain all gone?"

 

He shook his head and took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "It's better. Thanks to you. You're the only doc or nurse I need," he whispered, smiling softly. His eyes slid shut and he was out cold a breath later. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you it was a VERY slow burn. If you can stick with me, you only have two more chapters before the promised smut arrives. These two are fragile, physically and emotionally, I want the timing to be realistic, and right. I'll get them there, I swear it.


	15. I been getting used to waking up with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another week passes for Jon and Dany, they grow closer and some feelings are admitted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. Hope everyone is well. I want to thank you all for the sweet comments last chapter. I feel like a complete heel for not having answered them, but I honestly couldn't without breaking down in tears every time I tried. Needless to say my emotions are all over the place these days and very near the surface. But please know I appreciated each and everyone. I'm going to attempt to do better this chapter <3
> 
> Big love to Ashley and Meg for all their love, support, and the beta jobs. I seriously wouldn't be getting this out without them. Lots of love and hugs to my sweet Shayl as well. These ladies keep me sane, you guys don't even know. I love them all to the moon and back!
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter and please don't come after me with pitchforks, I promise the wait will be worth it!

  


I been getting used to waking up with you

I been getting used to waking up here

Anywhere I go there you are

Anywhere I go there you are

There you are

There you are

You're the fire and the flood

And I'll always feel you in my blood

Everything is fine

When your hand is resting next to mine

Next to mine

You're the fire and the flood

Since we met I feel a lightness in my step

You're miles away but I still feel you

Anywhere I go there you are (anywhere)

Anywhere I go there you are

Late at night when you can't fall asleep

I'll be lying right beside you counting sheep

Anywhere I go there you are (anywhere)

Anywhere I go there you are (anywhere)

There you are

There you are

You're the fire and the flood

And I'll always feel you in my blood

Everything is fine

When your hand is resting next to mine

Next to mine

You're the fire and the flood

Now listen here she said

Boy when you know you'll know

And I know

You're the fire and the flood

And I'll always feel you in my blood

Everything is fine

When your hand is resting next to mine

Next to mine

You're the fire and the flood

 

Fire and the Flood

**Vance Joy**

  
  


He opened his eyes to find Dany standing over him. She winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up," she whispered. "I was just checking on you."

 

"So'kay," he mumbled and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What time is it?" 

 

She was grinning at him sweetly when he looked up again; he smiled back and she sat down beside him, her hand coming to rest on his stomach. "You've only been out about twenty minutes. How’re you feeling?" she asked, her hand running up his side.

 

He tried to take stock of his leg, shoulder, any part of him that should be hurting, but all he could feel was her soft hand moving over his bare skin.

 

She was slowly killing him with each pass she made over his abs. It was the first time she’d touched him like that, so familiar and unreserved, besides washing him in the shower earlier anyway. As sex charged as that was, she had still been getting a job done, and was nervous as hell the whole time. 

 

The way she was touching him now was different. He couldn’t really explain it, but it was like she was at ease, or touching him made her at ease. He didn’t think she was even aware she was doing it. She'd told him the kiss had been the best she ever had, even if he had a hard time believing that, maybe it was all she needed to help her let go of her nerves a little. Whatever it was, he liked it, and didn’t want her to stop. 

 

"I'm okay," he finally responded, voice low and rough. 

 

She smiled, her hand stilling. He was equal parts relieved and disappointed. "Do you need anything, or do you want to sleep some more?” 

 

“I need to go to the bathroom. Is Robb still here, I can get him to help me,” he suggested.

 

“He is. He wanted to stay till you woke up. I'll go get him,” she said, hand rubbing again. He made the mistake of looking down, watching the slow movement, everything in him tightening with warm tension. “Oh, sorry,” she apologized, and went to pull away. “I didn’t—” 

 

“Don’t.” He gently grabbed her hand, and put it back on his stomach, holding his own over it. “I want you to touch me. I like it," he told her quietly, his eyes locked on hers. "This is me giving you permission. You can touch me anywhere you want, anytime you want."

 

Her face flushed, teeth biting into her bottom lip as she stared back at him. He waited for her to bolt off the bed, but she surprised him, leaning so close her lips were against his left cheek, breath blowing it against his ear. “You may regret that,” she whispered as her hand reached for the towel that was over his waist.

 

His heart, lungs, and brain decided to take a hiatus. He blamed them for not being able to stop her when she stood up, and walked away dragging the towel with her. She stopped right after she walked out the door, and leaned her head back into the room, those eyes of hers taking him in from head to toe and back again. “I’ll be back later, pretty boy.” She winked before disappearing, her soft laughter floating into his room.

 

_ Fucking hells. _

 

Maybe he was dreaming, or it could be the morphine messing with him, because the Dany from before his nap was NOT the Dany that just teased him like a sexy little minx. He hoped it wasn't his drug addled brain making things up, because he wanted her to do it again. And again, and again. 

 

Her laughter grew louder, then she was back, her bright eyes firmly on what he was sure was his dazed face as she walked to his side and covered him back up, this time with the comforter

 

She braced one hand on the bed and stroked his cheek with the other. "Are you okay?" she asked, still grinning.

 

"Yeah," he breathed. "Are you? You've never…." He didn't know what to say, worried he'd pick the wrong words and she'd take them as an insult when he would mean anything but.

 

Her grin grew into a smile. "I'm just happy," she told him. "You make me happy. But I shouldn't have teased you when you're drugged, that wasn't fair."

 

"You can tease me whenever you want, drugged or not," he was quick to tell her.

 

"That so?" she giggled. He nodded dumbly and she leaned down and kissed him, pulling away much too soon. "I'll remember that. I'm gonna go get Robb now, okay?" she asked, standing back up.

 

"Okay," he mumbled and watched her leave for a second time. 

 

_ She was happy. _

 

It all made sense then–the way she'd been touching him, her easy smiles, the teasing. Then it hit him why he'd been so confused. He'd never truly seen Dany happy before. Really happy. Enough to be playful and teasing. The thought broke his heart, but it put it back together too. 

 

She was happy, because of him.

 

“What are you grinning at dumbass?” Robb asked as he walked in, startling him.

 

“Huh? It's… uh... the pain meds. They make me loopy, you know that.”

 

“Yeah, I sure do. Funny thing is, Dany had the same grin on her face when she came to get me just now, and a rosy blush to boot.” Jon blinked at him in mock confusion. Robb responded by batting his eyelashes at him, smiling sweet as sugar. “You two are cute as pie,” he teased with a horrible impression of a woman’s voice. 

 

Jon worried for a second his eyes might get stuck to the back of his skull. He performed an eye roll worthy of Arya’s standards. “Shut the fuck up, and find me some clothes, please. I gotta take a piss and we’re not going across the hall unless I’m dressed. Two more people than I want have seen me naked today. God knows who’s gonna show up next to get their cheap thrill," he grumbled. 

 

Robb laughed, but dug around in the dresser. “You don’t mind giving Dany a thrill,” he mumbled under his breath. Jon chose to ignore that statement. Finally Robb stood, a pair of boxers and some shorts in his hands. “Can you do this yourself, or do you need help?” he asked, screwing his face up.

 

“Sorry bro, but you’re gonna have to help. I’ll keep junior covered while you pull them up. Put the boxers inside the shorts and you can do them both at once, save us both some humiliation,” he told him.

 

Robb groaned, and Jon apologized, again, but they got through the awkwardness and got him dressed, then up and into the wheelchair without causing too much pain. As they crossed to the bathroom Jon looked down the hall, spotting Dany and the doctor sitting at the dining room table. Dany looked up and smiled, waving her fingers at him adorably. He couldn't help but smile right back.

 

Robb parked the wheelchair close to the toilet, and set the brake before helping him up. He knew Dr. Tyrell told him not to be standing up, but it was too much work to sit down to take a leak. He did it the old-fashioned way, just very carefully balanced on one leg. Once he was back in the chair, Robb rolled him over to the sink to wash his hands.

 

“You can take me to the living room. I think Dr. Tyrell wanted to wrap my arm up. I might as well get it over with before I go back to bed,” he said while he dried his hands.

 

“I will, but we need to talk first,” he said steering him quickly back into the bedroom, and shutting the door behind them.

 

“What the hell?” Jon chuckled up at him.

 

“What happened in the shower?” he whispered while his eyebrows went to his hairline. 

 

Jon rolled his eyes again. “Are you serious? Are we teenage girls now? I’m not going to disrespect her like that.”

 

“Well, I already know you kissed, so you can do the telling now.” He had a devilish smirk on. “All of us know  _ something _ happened.”

 

“How the hell do you know that?” he asked, brows pinching together hard.      

 

“I asked. She told me.” He shrugged like it was no big deal as he sat down on the bed.

 

“Bullshit. Not unless you hounded her until she cracked,” he accused. Robb didn’t deny it. “I’m gonna kick your ass as soon as I’m able,” he growled at him. If he really upset her he might do it right then. He'd wind up back in the hospital, but maybe if he did it right Robb would, too.

 

He huffed out a laugh. “That’s what I told her you’d do.”

 

“Robb, you need to lay the fuck off. I mean it,” he warned him in a tone that brooked no argument, pointing a finger at him. “I love her.” A slow smile spread across his brother's face and Jon was about ready to jump out of his chair, and knock it the hell off him.

 

“’Bout time you admitted it.”

 

He scowled hard. "What?"

 

“Jon, you’ve been in love with her since you laid eyes on her. I knew it when you woke up in the hospital by the way you looked at her, and how badly you wanted her around. She loves you, too, even if she’s not ready to say so,” he told him. 

 

His anger evaporated like a whiff of smoke. He smirked at Robb. “Since when did you become the love guru?” 

 

He laughed a bit and gave another shrug. “I’m not by any stretch. You know how I feel about it," he said lowly, staring at his hands. "I thought I knew what it was and obviously I didn't. I got Carlie out of it so…" He looked back up, smirking. "But you two are screaming it so loud it's hard to miss. I never believed in that  _ ‘love at first sight’ _ shit, but it's hard not to after seeing the two of you together. If you could, I think you'd sit and stare at each other with goofy grins on your faces forever,” he laughed. His smile softened, and from the way he was looking at him Jon knew he would mean what he was about to say. “I’m happy for you, bro. She’s an amazing woman. You’re a lucky guy, and she’s just as lucky.”

 

Jon stared at him, a smile spreading across his face, something warm filling his chest. “Thanks,” he told him, but then an undesirable thought crossed his mind and wiped the happiness away. “Do you really think she loves me? What if it was only physical?” 

 

A shake of Robb's head made his heart lurch. __

 

Robb laughed, loud. “She loves you, Jon. Can't you see the way she looks at you?" he asked, incredulous. "I know you’re hurt, but you’re not fucking blind. I think she fell for you as fast as you did her. I’m sure there’s lust involved, but I’m guessing y’all have only kissed a few times so far, right?” 

 

“We’ve had one real kiss so far. In the shower, this morning. Other than that, it was just been pecks and some cuddling.” 

 

“Well then, you can't say it's all lust then, can you?” 

 

Jon rubbed at the back of his neck, hating the part of himself that always insisted on doubting things and expected the worst, wishing he knew how to shut it up. “I don’t want to, but I’m the first man she’s spent any time around since her husband died. Maybe I’m her first fling, you know?”

 

“Quit thinking like that," Robb griped at him, scowling hard. "You couldn't possibly be the first man she’s been around in the last two years. She stayed at that place in Atlanta for a long time. I’m sure there were men there. And she didn’t fall instantly in love with them or me, or Gendry, or even Sam, and we spent more time with her than you did those first few days at the hospital,” he said, working to convince him. Robb had had plenty of practice through the years trying to pull him out of one slump or another. He knew well how Jon's mind worked. “I'd say if she only wanted to sleep with you she would've left by now. It's not like you’re able to do much fucking with the shape you’re in.” 

 

Those last words had him snarling a bit. He had no plans to  _ fuck her _ , as he so crudely put it. Dany wasn’t just a fuck to him, she was so much more. If and when the time came he would worship her like she deserved, for hours if she’d let him. But he wasn't about to say that to his brother.

 

He groaned and closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I’ve never been so knotted up in my life.” If he could, he’d be pacing the floor he was so worked up all of a sudden, but he couldn't so he'd vomit his feelings to his brother instead. “I love her. I want her to love me back, but she’s so afraid of risking her heart again. I get that, I really do, but I can't help but worry that no matter how much I love her it won’t be enough for her to take that jump. Even if she loves me, I’m afraid she won’t let herself feel it, that she’ll run to protect her heart. If I could guarantee her nothing would ever happen to me I would, but there’s no way to do that,” he sighed loudly.

 

Robb winced when he looked back up at him. “Sorry, bro. Wish I knew what to tell ya, but I don’t. Give her time, I guess?”

 

“Yeah, there's not much else I can do.” He looked down at the floor, shaking his head. "I talked to Dad last night, he basically told me I’d be an idiot to walk away from her." 

 

Robb snorted. "Dad's always right, you probably better listen to him."

"Yeah, I'm gonna." His lips pulled up at the corners of their own accord. Despite his worry, he was happy, happier than he'd been in a long time. “It's torture, but it's the sweetest torture I’ve ever known. Not that there's any way I could walk away, broken leg or no. She’s got my heart so wrapped up in her I’ll never get it untangled anyway.”

  
  


__

  
  


Dany had hardly left his side since their shower two days before. And it had only taken one pleading look and a  _ please _ from him for her to agree to sleep in his bed. But not without the half dozen pillows she insisted should be between them so she didn’t kick his leg during the night, of course.

 

Ad he'd since decided there was something wonderful about laying down and listening to the woman he loved get ready for bed knowing he'd have her beside him all night– listening to her brush her teeth, watching her brush her hair. Feeling the bed move as she climbed in next to him… It was its own special drug. A peace and happiness he'd never known.

 

Staying till morning at a woman’s house was something he'd never done before Dany, nor had anyone ever stayed all night at his. He was thankful for that, it made the past few nights with her even more perfect. 

 

He'd been getting some of the best sleep of his life too. He was sure Dr. Tyrell would say it was the meds she gave him. She’d be wrong. 

 

The hall light clicked off and Dany's soft footsteps sounded across the wood floors. She paused just inside his door, all kinds of gorgeous in her old Nirvana t-shirt and tiny shorts, hair down and flowing, cheeks pink from the scrubbing she'd given them he guessed. "You need anything before I lay down?" she asked.

 

He shook his head. "Nope."

 

She walked around the bed and climbed in beside him, slow and easy as not to jostle him and he cursed his healing body for the millionth time. The wait was beginning to get agonizing. He pushed it aside as she leaned over him, her smile soft. "One more day done," she said, fingers tucking some of his hair behind his ear before they ran down his cheek. 

 

"Yeah," he breathed, slipping his hand into her silky hair and pulling her closer, their noses bumping, lips barely brushing as they panted into each other's mouths. It was the same every time, the instant explosion of sensations the nearness of her caused within him. Heart thundering in his ears, chest filling with heat and sweet, sweet agony, blood pumping hot. He didn't know if there was a word for it, but there needed to be, though he doubted one word,  _ any _ word, no matter how big could hold all he felt for her. 

 

Since their shower he'd taken to playing with her hair all the time, rubbing her back, arms and legs, holding her hand, kissing her. And to his relief she'd done the same to him, but still he worried about pushing her too hard. And he also wanted more, but he was happy to take what he could get. He felt certain if his body wasn’t screwed up she’d be fine with taking things further, but figured she was afraid she’d cause him to get hurt again. So they had gone back to cuddling, hand holding, and kissing, but he could live with that. He loved her more with each day that passed. He could be patient.

 

Her tongue slipped between his parted lips, tasting his and he lost himself, drinking her down for all he was worth. He'd tried going back to keeping their kisses slow and soft, but he never could. Not since the shower. Dany seemed as defenseless as him, her restraint hanging by a thread, small whimpers and moans slipping free, fingers clutching at his hair as she took everything he gave her. 

 

Just like the two nights before, they were both left gasping for air, hands gripping whatever skin or fabric they could find, bodies straining for more until she pulled away and flopped onto her back with a groaning laugh. 

 

He grabbed her hand and laced his fingers with hers. "I'm sorry."

 

She gave a scoffing giggle. "For what? Kissing me stupid?" She rolled toward him again, her smile stealing his breath as she reached up and squeezed his cheeks, planting another kiss on his puckered lips. "Don't ever apologize for that, Jon Snow."

 

He smiled at her as she rolled back over and let go of his hand to reach up and turn off her lamp, the light lasting long enough he caught sight of her ass cheeks, firm and round, peeking out from her little sleep shorts as she stretched. She was wearing some silky looking blue panties.

 

And she was killing him.  _ God _ was she killing him. 

 

The room went dark and the bed shifted, but soon enough her hand was back, fingers lacing with his, her grip snug. "What're we gonna talk about tonight?" she asked softly, "Or are you too sleepy?"

 

"No, I'm good. Is it your turn or mine?"

 

"Yours."

 

"Alright, let me think."

 

She liked to talk before they went to sleep, seeming less afraid to tell him things when she couldn't see his face. It helped him too, made things easier to get out. He wasn't crazy about digging up his demons, but he couldn't complain, he got to learn new things about her as they laid in the dark, voices soft.

 

Her birthday was May twenty-fourth, her favorite color was blue, she’d never broken a bone, and she never went to prom either.

 

He planned on fixing that as soon as he was healed up. He'd rent out a whole place for them if he had to, hire a band, decorator, the whole nine yards. He thought maybe Sansa could help with getting her a dress, and Robb would help him with the rest. Keeping it a surprise would be the hard part.

 

She had turned him into such a sap, but he didn’t care.

 

He racked his brain, hunting for something new to talk about. The show they'd been binge watching on Netflix was probably safe. They started with  _ Lost _ because it was one of the few he hadn’t seen before. She let him pick because she hadn’t watched TV in years.  _ “I was too busy before, and then after I didn't care, _ ” she’d told him quietly.

 

She broke his heart at least a dozen times a day.

 

Practically every time they talked of her past he wound up with an aching heart. He was sure he did the same to her. But, they needed to get it all out he supposed. He wasn't interested in going there tonight though. 

 

"How about I tell you about the party Robb and I had in high school?"

 

"Oooh, that sounds good. Tell me," she begged.

 

"Alright, so, junior year, we're seventeen. Ned and Cat have taken all the younger kids and gone out of town for Thanksgiving. Me and Robb couldn't go because we both had jobs and couldn't get off. Of course we were both under strict orders to go nowhere except work, and no friends were allowed over."

 

She giggled. "Let me guess… Y'all didn't listen."

 

"Nope, we didn't." 

 

"This already sounds like a movie I've seen," she snickered.

 

"Yeah," he chuffed, "it could've been. It was only supposed to be us and a couple of other guys, but of course about fifty kids showed up. Some college guy brought vodka as a gift to us for throwing the party. We'd never had more than a beer or two before that night. Needless to say, we wound up drunk off our asses dancing around in our underwear while serenading the crowd with our version of  _ ‘I’m Too Sexy’ _ ."

 

Dany was laughing her ass off before he even finished, and that alone made the suffering he did back then worth it. Her laugh was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. If he hadn’t already loved her before, he would’ve been a hopeless case after hearing it. He just wished the light was on so he could see her too.

 

"Please tell me someone has pictures or video?" she giggled before rolling over and clutching his arm. "I would pay good money for them."

 

He snorted. "I'm sure someone does somewhere, but I honestly didn't know over half the people there, and I've forgotten most of the rest of them."

 

"Damn. Did y'all get away with it at least?"

 

He barked out a laugh. "Hell no. We got busted, hard."

 

"Oh no. What happened?"

 

"Of course we were being loud as hell, music blasting, everybody singing and yelling. The neighbors called apparently and the cops showed up." She made a squeak of sympathy. "Yeah," he sighed. "It was right about the time the vodka decided it didn’t want to be in our stomachs anymore too." She was giggling again even if she was trying to smother it, he couldn't help but laugh with her. "Our buddy Theon said it took a good hour before the cops loaded us up. We were puking so much they didn’t want us in their car."

 

"Oh my God, no. You poor things!" She was rubbing over his stomach, his hand still tight in her other one. "Did they really take you to jail?"

 

"Yup. One call to Dad and we were done for. He told em to keep us overnight," he told her.

 

"He didn't!"

 

He nodded even if she couldn't see him. "He did, but he bailed us out the next morning after driving all night to get back home.  _ God _ , he was pissed. Robb and I were scared shitless. We just knew he was gonna kill us. I'll never forget walking out to see him standing there. Robb was trying to beg for mercy, all I could do was puke from fear."

 

"Oh Jon, bless your heart." She hugged herself to his side as much as all the pillows would allow. "Did he scream at you all the way home? My dad was a screamer," she whispered.

 

He let go of her hand and pulled his arm out from between them, wrapping it around her back, rubbing his palm up her spine. He didn't like the idea of anyone screaming at her and had to wonder if some of her meekness stimmed from having an angry father and not just her self-doubts and guilts. That ache was back in his chest–that particular pang only she evoked in him. A desperate want to heal all her wounds, to love her so hard, so deeply all the pain could be forgotten. 

 

He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her head. "He didn't, but it was almost worse. He didn't say a word. Not one word after he told us to shut our mouths, whatever it was he didn't want to hear it."

 

"Shit," she breathed and gave another little groan of sympathy, pressing a kiss to his chest, hand rubbing his side.

 

"Yeah," he agreed, "So we just sat in the back seat, sweating and shaking, trying our damndest not to puke before we could get home."

 

"What did he do to you when you got there?"

 

"He made us clean every inch of the house and yard while we were still hung over. Took two days to get it mostly back to normal. And he grounded us for three months. When Cat got home she was fucking livid. A lot of her  _ priceless  _ shit was broken. Of course it was my fault, I was the bad influence on Robb. As always. But Dad put most of the blame on him, knew he was the popular one, the one most likely to talk. I was the loner who only socialized when Robb forced me to and he knew that. It was one of the times he was easier on me than he should've been. I was there, I got just as drunk and acted just as stupid. The few weeks afterwards were awful, everybody pissed at everybody else. Makes my stomach knot up just thinking about it," he sighed. "Needless to say, we never had another party."

 

"I bet not."

 

"Did you ever do the drunk teenager thing?" he asked, pulling her a little closer, nose in her hair, breathing in her sweet scent. He really needed to tell her about those days he'd soon forget, but he hadn't found a good time. Maybe tonight was it.

 

"No," she whispered, all of her amusement gone, "not until after…"

 

_ After _ . She could mean after her parents, or her husband, and he wasn't sure if he should push her on either. He didn't like how her voice had changed.

 

She suddenly let out a big yawn that shook her whole body. He palmed the back of her head and pressed a kiss her brow, his decision made. They could talk about sad stuff later. "Story time's over," he teased. 

 

Her head tilted back and her lips caught his, giving him a soft kiss. "Goodnight, Jon," she whispered, and rolled away before he could return it. 

 

But her hand found his again and that kept the tinges of dread from sinking into his heart. He let her get settled then brought their entwined fingers up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "Night, Dany. Sleep tight."

 

She squeezed his hand. "You too."

  
  


\---

  
  


The next few days passed by like a slug stuck in syrup as his mom would’ve said. He thought it was Saturday or maybe Sunday. 

 

_ Fuck, he didn’t know, his days were so screwed up.  _

Whatever day it was, he doubted it would go by any faster than the last ones had. Other than spending so much time on his ass it hadn’t been bad, though. He'd had her beautiful face to look at almost constantly. 

 

_ How on earth could that be bad? _

 

Waking up next to her every morning was amazing. He could stare at her forever, she was so beautiful with the morning light laying on her skin. She looked like something out of a dream in those early hours, so soft and peaceful. That morning was no different.

 

He was awake before her again. He'd been doing so much resting he really didn’t need much sleep. She, on the other hand, had been working her ass off taking care of him, so she always seemed to be tired. He hated it, but no matter how much he fussed at her to sit down and rest, she rarely ever listened. So he just laid there and watched her sleep knowing she was getting the rest she needed.

 

Only one of their peaceful nights had been fractured so far. She'd had another nightmare on the night he'd told her about the party. Her pitiful cries woke him. She'd called out for that Ray guy again, but then she quickly began to scream for him. It hurt like a bitch, but he threw as many of the pillows as he could reach off the bed then pulled her close. She only fought him for a second before melting against his side. She cried for a few minutes, him holding her tight, trying his best to soothe her, but it felt much longer, his heart aching all the while. Soon after, she was fast asleep again. It took him a bit longer, his mind spinning, trying to connect the dots. Wondering if his story had triggered something for her, and who Ray was. 

 

He'd yet to ask her, not wanting to cause her pain. She'd tell him when she was ready, she just needed more time. He couldn't fault her that, he needed it himself.

 

He reached out and lightly stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her skin was so damn soft it was hard to keep his hands off her. 

 

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” she asked, turning to face him fully and giving his fingers a kiss with a sleepy smile. 

 

He smiled back. “Morning, hummingbird. How long have you been playing opossum?”

 

“Mmmmm, not too long, but long enough to know you’re a creeper,” she teased with a wicked grin.

 

“You wound me, woman. I can't help being stuck in this bed,” he defended himself. “And it is not my fault you’re so beautiful either." He smiled, brushing some of her hair off her face. 

 

She blushed adorably and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I look ravishing with no makeup on, bed head, and morning breath. Maybe I should’ve had Dr. Tyrell check your eyes when she was here," she said with a grin.

 

“There is nothing wrong with my eyes, they work fine. You’re the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen,” he whispered, leaving out any trace of teasing in his voice. Her blush deepened, grin fading into a softer smile. 

 

“Thank you, but I could say the same thing about you,” she said, leaning over and kissing his lips. She kept it short unfortunately, pulling back to get off the bed.

 

He watched as she walked around the end of it only to stop and stretch. His cock twitched seeing her perfect body outlined by the sunlight streaming in the window and through her thin t-shirt. It allowed him to get his first glance of her nipples, hard and pebbled as they strained against her top.

 

_ The blue balls were starting early today. _

 

She got him up and into the bathroom before heading to hers, and they started another day. They had ham and cheese omelets for breakfast out on the back porch, and once she helped him onto the sofa she cleaned up the kitchen then got ready to go get groceries. He tried to talk her into taking him with her, but she wouldn’t budge. He didn’t like her being out by herself, worried she may have an attack. 

 

As far as he knew she hadn’t had any that week. He’d hate for her have one and have to deal with it alone. He tried to get her to stay there and let Robb pick stuff up for them or at least take him with her, but she didn’t like those ideas either. Instead, her and Robb had come up with the excuse he needed to bring Carlie to see her uncle Jon-Jon, so they would be coming to stay with him. Which meant Dany wouldn’t have to worry about him being alone. 

 

Why she got to have her worries appeased and he didn't he wasn't sure. 

 

Robb and Carlie showed up right on time to keep him company though–burgers and fries from their favorite diner included. 

 

“Car-Car! What’s up, little lady?” he asked her with a big smile. He always greeted her that way and usually got a bright smile and high five in return. 

 

But her blue eyes were looking at him as they never had before–with uncertainty. He patted the sofa beside him. “Come here and sit with me. I’ve missed you.” 

 

She walked over and climbed up, still staring quietly. He let her check him out all she wanted. His leg fascinated her the most. Finally, she looked up at him with her cute little face twisted up. “Daddy said some bad men shot you.”

 

“They did.”

 

“Well, why’d you let em do that?” 

 

He laughed softly. She was only five, but he swore sometimes she was smarter than him. “I didn’t let them. Bad guys kind of do what they want, and I was busy keeping them from hurting my friend.”

 

“Daddy said it was a girl.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Who is she?”

 

“Her name’s Dany.”

 

“Are you gonna get better so you can play with me again? Daddy said you couldn’t play with me today.”

 

“I’m definitely gonna get better, and I can play with you today, we’ll just have to be gentle, okay?”

 

“Okay. I’m glad the bad men didn’t kill you,” she whispered, her little chin quivering. 

 

_ He thought his heart just might shatter.  _

 

“Me, too, sweet pea. Come here and give me a hug,” he told her, his voice cracking. Robb picked her up and helped her straddle his lap. Her little arms wrapped around his neck and squeezed hard. He rubbed her back, and kissed her auburn hair. “I love you, Car-Car. Always and forever,” he told her, doing his best not to blubber like a baby.

 

“I love you too, Jon-Jon,” she whispered, then kissed his cheek. “Is that Dany?” 

 

He craned his neck back, and saw Dany standing at the end of the hallway, wiping her eyes, her nervous smile on her face. “Yup. That’s her. Dany, come meet Miss Carlie.” 

 

She walked around the sofa and sat beside them, Carlie keeping a very close eye on her. “Hi, Carlie. I’m Dany. It’s very nice to meet you.”

 

“Hi. Is this your house?”

 

“It is,” Dany told her, smiling. 

 

Carlie looked at him. “Why are you stayin’ here? What’s wrong with your house?”

 

“I couldn't go up and down the stairs with my leg yet. Dany was nice enough to let me stay with her. She’s taking care of me ‘til I’m better.” 

 

Carlie stared at Dany for a few moments before looking back at him. “She’s pretty. Your hair is like nightime and hers is the moon. Is she your girlfriend now?” 

 

They all laughed. Dany blushed. 

 

“Such a smart child I have,” Robb said.

 

“Thank you, Carlie. You are very pretty, too. I love your pretty blue eyes and red hair,” Dany told her.

 

“Yeah, I look just like my daddy. He put my hair up this morning, he didn't do half bad."

 

They all laughed again. Carlie was always good for some honesty. Dany pointed over to the TV cabinet. "I bet if you look under the TV over there you’ll find some stuff you might like,” she whispered, then stood up, kissed his head, and told them bye before nearly running out the door. Robb gave him a questioning look as she went out, but Jon didn’t know what had gotten into her, either. 

 

Carlie kept them busy for hours, begging to play every board and card game Dany had stashed in the TV cabinet. He must've been distracted and kept too close of an eye on his phone, checking to see if Dany had texted him back, because Robb kept making a point of ragging him about it every chance he got. He was lucky he hadn’t gotten it thrown at him. 

 

She’d been with him so much the past few weeks and especially the last one, that he supposed he was having a bad case of separation anxiety. 

 

_ But damn, why would groceries take three hours anyway? _

 

She finally got back safe, and he felt like he could breathe again. Turned out she wasn’t just getting groceries, she'd also went out to lunch and shopping with Margaery. Then she said she has a surprise for him. She went back outside for a minute and came back in with his boy.

 

“Ghost! Where’ve you been?” he called out. 

 

Ghost started to flail, running in place, trying to get to him on the slippery wood floors and almost knocked Dany over. She laughed it off and gave him a push, helping him get traction. The giant ball of fluff finally made it to him and proceeded to go nuts. He’d always been happy to see him when he came home from work, but it had never been quite so extreme. He was whining and crying like he thought he’d never see Jon again, shaking and trembling all the while. It was pitiful.

 

“Aww, bud. it's okay," he cooed at him, rubbing him as best he could. "I’m so sorry I had to leave you. Shhh, calm down, I’m right here, buddy. Yeah, you get to stay with me now, it’s okay.” Robb helped hold him back as Jon worked to calm him down before he accidentally hurt him. Ghost relaxed a little, but had to lick and smell him all over, and a giggling Carlie too. It wasn't easy, but they managed to keep him off his shoulder and leg.

 

Once they had him really calm–a good ten minutes later–Robb took Carlie to help him go unload their groceries, leaving him, Ghost, and Dany alone. He looked over at her to tell her thanks for bringing him, and she was wiping away tears despite her smile. He smirked at her. “What're you crying for?” 

 

“Jon! What do you mean, why am I crying? Look at you two. The poor thing acted like he thought you left him forever. I hate I waited so long to go get him, bless his heart. It's so sad, but so sweet,” she nearly wailed. 

 

He laughed at her, kissing her cheek when she leaned over his shoulder to pet Ghost. “Thank you for bringing him.”

 

“You’re welcome,” she whispered and turned to kiss him on the lips. Of course, just when her tongue started to glide across them Ghost decided he needed a kiss, too.

 

“Ahh! No doggie kisses, Ghost!” Dany squealed jumping back from them. “I’m gonna go help Robb and Carlie while you two have your reunion, okay? Y’all can kiss in private,” she laughed as she walked away.

 

Jon sighed and rolled his eyes, wrapping Ghost’s face in his hands and shaking him gently. “I’m glad to see you, but I’ll send you back to Gendry if you turn out to be a cock blocker, you hear me?”

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Robb and Carlie left soon after Dany got home and she stayed busy for the next couple of hours, putting up groceries, doing laundry, and cooking supper, too. He felt like such an ass for sitting around doing nothing while she worked, but he didn’t have much choice. He'd definitely be doing his part to help as soon as she would let him. He could at least sit and fold laundry, but she wouldn't even let him do that. 

 

She'd picked up a Boston butt from the bar-b-que place he loved, and the smell of it warming in the oven was making his mouth water. Just when he was about to get up and beg for some she came out of the kitchen, and sat on the arm of the sofa beside him. “Where do you want to eat tonight?”

 

“Here’s fine, we can watch some more  _ Lost _ ,” he told her. Cuddling with her after supper was becoming one of his favorite times of the day.

 

“All right, give me ten minutes, and I’ll be back with everything.” She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “Does he need putting out while we eat?” she asked, pointing at Ghost who was sound asleep, his head in Jon's lap. He hadn’t left his side since he'd got there.

 

“Ummm, you can let him out for a few minutes. He probably won’t run off since I’m in here, and he’s not a beggar, he knows he’ll get some when I’m done.” He rubbed on Ghost's neck, shaking him a bit. "Wake up, bud, go outside."

 

His dog wasn't too impressed with being woken up, but got up anyway and after a good stretch looked at Dany expectantly. She giggled at him and scratched beneath his ear. “We’ll be back,” she said, throwing him a smile as they headed toward the front of the house. 

 

About an hour later, they'd finished eating, Dany had the kitchen cleaned up, and he had the next episode of  _ Lost _ going. The three of them were snuggled up on the couch and despite his broken bones, Jon felt like life couldn't get much better. If he didn’t think about it too hard, it was almost like they were married. He'd never considered the thought of getting married before Dany came along, not even about being part of a couple period. He guessed it just took the right one coming along.

 

“Jack, no! What the hell? Can you believe he did that?” Dany fussed at the TV before looking over at him incredulously. 

 

He hadn’t really been watching, so he just smiled and shook his head at her for getting so worked up about a TV show, then pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

 

_ Shit. Did he say that out loud? _

 

As quiet as she was he was gonna have to go with yes. 

 

He didn’t know which one of them was more surprised, him or her. She was still as a statue laying against his side, but she hadn’t run away screaming yet, so he took that as a good sign. After a few seconds, she looked up and he could tell by her face she didn’t know what to say, so he saved her from having to respond. 

 

He leaned over and kissed her head again, running his fingers into her hair. “Sorry I sprang that on you, it was supposed to be a secret for a while longer. Apparently, it didn’t want to stay hidden any more," he whispered, hoping,  _ praying _ he hadn't just royally fucked up. 

 

Heart thudding a riot behind his ribs he dared to meet her eyes again. Her deer in the headlights look was still firmly in place. His stomach dropped and then he was spewing out his feelings like water from a broken faucet. "I only realized it a few days ago. But I felt it from the moment I laid eyes on you. I didn’t know what it was I was feeling, but I knew you were what I wanted, who I needed," he confessed. "I think I've been waiting for you for a long time, and just didn’t know it.” 

 

She stared up at him, those big blue eyes welling with tears. “Jon…” she choked, but didn’t seem to be able to find her next words. 

 

Heart in fucking tatters, he pulled her to him and much to his relief she tucked herself into the crook of his neck, letting out a small sob. “Shhhhh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispered, rubbing her back. 

 

She clung to him, but stayed quiet for so long he was scrambling for ways to fix his word vomit. More of the same was all his brain could come up with. “You don’t have to say anything, but I want you to know I meant it. I do, Dany. I love you. I’ve loved you for days, for weeks already. Nothing has to change between us, and it's okay if you don’t love me back yet, or if you can't ever love me,” he confessed, though the thought of her never loving him was as good as a knife lodged in his heart.

 

She didn't respond for another few seconds, leaving him hanging over a gaping pit of despair, then finally she pulled back to look at him, her face all red, eyes already puffy.

 

_ Damnit, he was such a dick. His filter was for shit. _

 

“God, Dany, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything, okay? I won’t say it again, I swear,” he promised her, brushing her hair back from her face and wiping at her tears. 

 

Her big blue eyes were desperately searching his for something, what he didn’t know. He was surprised when she reached up and ran her fingertips over his eyebrow, then down the side of his face to his lips, the smallest of smiles gracing hers. “Thank you,” she said, barely above a whisper.

 

_ Thank you? Thank you for what? For loving her, or for promising not to say it again? _

 

He had to ask, even if he was afraid of the answer. “For what?”

 

Her eyes closed, a few more tears fell down her flushed cheeks, her forehead coming to rest against his. "For loving me when I don’t even love myself."

 

He nearly let out a sob of his own as he pulled her awkwardly toward his lap with his good arm. She easily figured out what he wanted and carefully straddled him, laying against his chest and burying her face in his neck again. He expected pain, had braced for it, but felt very little–only a twinge in his shoulder, one he was determined to ignore. His arms automatically wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and he sucked in a deep breath at the utter relief he felt to finally hold her the way he'd ached to for weeks. It was better than he could've imagined and he was so fucking thankful he had enough use in his bad arm to do so. 

 

His fingers played in the downy hair at the nape of her neck as he held her to him, peppering her temple and cheek with kisses. "Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done, hummingbird. I don’t deserve someone as special as you."

 

She popped up, looking at him with a scowl. “Don’t say that. You’re good, Jon. All the way to your bones. I’ve never known a man any better than you,” she whispered, all traces of her scowl gone as she leaned in and placed a feather light kiss on his cheek. “I think I may have fallen in love with you, too,” she whispered into his ear.

 

He froze, wondering if he'd heard her right before he pushed her back gently so he could see if her face matched her words. She was still crying, but she was smiling too. He couldn't help but smile right back. “You have?” he asked, but didn’t give her time to answer, his hopes and fears leaving him to stumble on. “It's okay if you aren’t sure yet. I don’t want you to say it until you’re sure. I’ll wait, however long it takes,” he promised her. 

 

Her smile grew as she gently cupped his face, kissing him softly on the lips before looking at him again. “I know you will, but you don’t have to," she told him, her hands smoothing back his hair, the look in her eyes so sweet he was sure all his ragged cracks and edges had disappeared. "My heart’s been yours since I showed you how shattered and broken I was, and you looked back at me like I was still whole, like I’d never been broken in the first place. I’ve loved you ever since. I’ve just been too afraid to admit it,” she sniffled.

 

He tried to keep from simply falling apart, pulling her to him until her forehead rested against his, gasping for air, his lungs suddenly useless, his heart completely done for. "It's okay, I’ve been afraid, too. We're learning not to be afraid together, remember?"

 

“Yeah,” she agreed, her breathing as shaky as his own. 

 

He closed the distance between her lips and his, and kissed her softly, because he couldn't not. “Say it for me. Please,” he asked, kissing his way from one corner of her mouth to the other.

 

“I love you, Jon,” she breathed out, slow and sweet. 

 

They were the most beautiful words he'd ever heard and he didn’t waste any time returning them. “God, Dany. I love you, too."

 

She sucked in a quiet gasp. “Kiss me, please. I'm afraid of what might happen if you don't,” she begged. 

 

Hearing the need in her voice, all the pent-up emotions that had been building inside of him for the last several weeks came rushing to the surface and he crashed his lips against hers, his tongue immediately seeking her own. He wanted to devour her. Worship her. Taste every inch of her luscious body then start all over again. 

 

He tried to slow down, he didn’t want to scare her, but when her hands gripped his hair, and her tongue met his with as much desperation, he knew she was every bit as eager as he was. Her moans and whimpers were proof enough. Her rocking hips even more. He'd been trying not to let himself focus too much on how warm her center felt pressed over his cock since the moment she'd settled on his lap, but all restraint left him then, his hips rising up against hers.

 

He poured everything he felt for her into the kiss, and some things he hadn't been aware of. He felt as if he were drowning, and she was his only hope of surviving. He'd never experienced a kiss so intense, or been so overwhelmed with need before. Never had he wanted to give so much of himself to anyone. He thought he could kiss her like that forever, and never need it to go any further, just hang at the cliff's edge for an age.

 

Unfortunately, they had no choice but to catch their breath, but they kept as much contact with each other as possible, hands and mouths roaming everywhere they could reach–hips rocking, needing friction. When his lips found the fresh tears on her cheeks though, he had to stop. He pulled back and looked at her, gripped with fear. She was flushed and panting, tears streaming from her eyes as she looked back at him. His heart dropped straight to the pit of his stomach. “Dany? What is it? Did I do something—?”

 

The press of her lips over his shut him up. “I swear I’m okay, Jon. Please don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop. I need you,” she whispered, rolling her hips again, grinding over him. He couldn't stop the moan escaping from the back of his throat, already imagining the feel of her velvet heat gripping him. But they were not going any further until he was one hundred percent sure. 

 

“Are you positive? I want you more than anything right now, but I won’t until I know you’re sure. We can wait. Technically we’ve only really kissed a few times. I don’t want you to think I’m easy,” he said with a wink, trying to ease her tension, and maybe his too.

 

She let out a small sob mixed with a laugh, and hugged him for a few seconds. He barely got a chance to hug her back before she sat up again. He willed his cock to behave despite her movement, concentrating on her beautiful face instead. She wiped her eyes before taking a deep breath. Letting it out, she finally looked at him again. “I don’t want to wait if you don’t. If you’re sure of us,” she whispered timidly. 

 

He brushed his hand over the side of her face and tucked some hair behind her ear, shaking his head as he smiled at her. “Dany, please believe me when I say this, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re it for me.” He picked one of her hands up and kissed her palm before putting it over his heart. “Do you feel that? It's yours. It beats only for you, now. I love you. I’m yours for however long you want me,” he swore to her.

 

She was biting her bottom lip trying to keep herself from crying any harder by the time he finished. He watched her, his heart breaking as she gathered herself with a few deep, shaky breaths. He’d give up everything he had if he could keep her from ever feeling the pain that still caused her to be so torn and unsure. 

 

She wiped her eyes one more time, and straightened her spine, bringing her eyes up to his. “I think I'm gonna want you for a long, long time,” she said with surprising strength in her voice.

 

“Yeah?” 

 

A small smile tugged at the right corner of her pretty mouth. She crossed her arms over her stomach and pulled her shirt off over her head. His eyes went right to her perfect breasts wrapped in silver satin and lace. Her lips were moving against his before he even registered she’d moved. 

 

"Yeah.”

 


	16. And you whisper you love me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smut that was promised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!!! 
> 
> I'm not so bad now, am I? Hope you all enjoy, my dears!
> 
> Huge hugs and love to Wolvenstorm/Shayl for all her fabulous cheer leading and for challenging me to make this better. And as always to my bestie Ash <3

  
  


My hands are searching for you

My arms are outstretched towards you

I feel you on my fingertips

My tongue dances behind my lips for you

This fire rising through my being

Burning, I'm not used to seeing you

I'm I'm alive, I'm I'm alive

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healing

My hands float up above me

And you whisper you love me

And I begin to fade

Into our secret place

The music makes me sway

The angels singing say we are alone with you

I am alone, and they are too with you

I'm alive, I'm alive

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healing

And so I cry (holy)

The light is white (holy)

And I see you

I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healing

Take my hand

I give it to you

Now you owe me

All I am

You said you would never leave me

I believe you

I believe

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healed

 

All Around Me

**Flyleaf**

 

 

 

The simmer that had been brewing between them for weeks erupted as soon as her answer left her lips. Jon molded them together, hands fisting in her hair, his demanding mouth taking from hers until suddenly there wasn't a breath of space left within her that wasn't filled with burning for him. Every cell in her body was on fire in a way she'd never felt before. It had never been so intense with Drogo. Not even close.

 

_ No. Go away ghosts, not now.  _

 

She was not going to think about him right then. Only Jon, he was all that mattered. He was there, alive, and he loved her. __

 

_ Jon loved her _ .

 

She couldn’t believe the amazing, sweet, gorgeous man in her arms loved her. She could almost feel the cracks in her heart close as it swelled at the thought. She never would’ve believed it before, but she saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, could feel it in the way his hands touched her. Almost reverent, yet so very hungry.

 

They felt as if they were leaving hot trails behind them as they moved across her skin. She was surprised there weren’t sparks shooting out in their wake. Her nerves sizzled under his fingertips. His lips and tongue like flames against her own, searing and scorching, only making her thirst for more.

 

Sparklers ran through her veins straight to her heart, the electricity sealing the cracks closed, steel weaving into her bones making them stronger, and fresh air,  _ his air _ , filling her lungs making breathing easier than it had ever been. There was none left in her lungs that wasn’t already his. He took it from her greedily then filled her with his own, warm and forcing its way in heavy gusts and pants, only to suck hers back into his own lungs once more.

 

He was like the moon and she the tide that couldn’t help but rise to meet him. He had become her gravity, taking over her body, drawing and pulling her ever closer and deeper into his orbit. There was no hope of turning back, stopping, or escaping him, nor did she want there to be. She was alive in his arms. More alive than she'd ever been.

 

Without warning he pulled away, leaving her reeling. His hands held her in place, thankfully. If they hadn’t, she would've surely fallen off his lap and onto the floor. When her head slowed its spin, she looked at him hoping he saw the desperation she was feeling, but his eyes were roaming her body not her face. 

 

"Jon, please," she tried pleading with him instead.

 

He must have heard the urgency in her voice. His eyes locked with hers, glowing back at her like black flames. “I’ve waited so long. Please, let me look at you. I  _ need _ to see you,” he whispered, trailing eyes and fingers down her face and neck, over the swell of her breasts. 

 

She shivered from his touch and the heat of his gaze, goosebumps rising across her skin to meet him, as if searching for more contact. 

 

“You are so damn beautiful, Dany,” he said, voice strained and raspy. “Even more than I imagined.” His hands slid down her sides to circle her hips, which rocked against him on instinct. His grip tightened, and he let out a deep groan as his head fell back, eyes rolling closed. 

 

A surge of power ran through her. 

 

_ If one tilt of her hips could cause that response from him, what else could she pull from him?  _

 

Slowly rocking against him, trying to ignore her nerves, and what his moans and groans were doing to her insides, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. It was off seconds later, her breasts feeling heavy and full, nipples so hard they ached painfully. She needed to feel his touch, and not wanting to wait a second longer she took his right hand in her left and slid it up her stomach to her breast.

 

His head jerked up, eyes flying open as soon as she ran his fingertips over the soft skin. He sat up more so he had the use of both hands, and they immediately cupped and weighed her heavy flesh in their palms while his fingers and thumbs slowly caressed the skin around her straining nipples.

 

The fire burning within her flamed higher. She needed more. But he seemed bent on taking things slowly, so she did her best to calm down and let him.

 

He sat back again, his palms sliding from under her breasts, letting them take their own weight. His eyes seemed to glaze over as he stared in what could only be described as wonder. Instead of feeling powerful, she suddenly became self-conscious and cupped them with her own hands, lifting them back up knowing they weren't—

 

He stopped her train of thought, leaning forward and bending his head to place gentle kisses to the skin that was swelling from between her fingers. When his hot tongue joined his lips he easily pulled her hands away, taking her insecurities with them. Those beautiful hands of his took their place, and she couldn’t help but whimper as he lifted one nipple to his lips, circling it once with his warm, wet tongue before kissing it lightly. The right one received the same treatment. She whimpered when he stopped to look up at her. 

 

“Please don’t ever hide these from me. They’re perfect, just like you are,” he whispered. He leaned down and rubbed his cheek over the side of one, from nipple to chest. “So soft, so perfect,” he sighed. His lips trailed kisses back to the stiff and straining peak and she watched, trembling, as his tongue slipped out and flicked over it. Another whimper escaped her throat, a bolt of pleasure shooting straight to her cunt. His fingers and thumbs closed around it and its mate, pinching and twirling them as he looked back up at her. “So hard, and begging to be touched,” he rasped.

 

She ground against him harder at his words, realizing she'd never stopped rocking herself over the stiff bulge that was barely hidden inside his thin shorts. “Yes, touch me, Jon. Please,” she panted, hardly recognizing her own voice.

 

He didn’t hesitate, nearly making her cry out when his sinful mouth locked around one nipple and began to suckle it greedily while his thumb and fingers twisted and pulled at the other. She writhed on top of him, her moans joining his, as he seemingly worshipped her breasts, never making one jealous of the other. His mouth left her, but his fingers didn’t stop their assault as he sat back and watched her rise and fall over him. “Please tell me there are condoms somewhere in this house,” he groaned, pressing up into her.

 

“Don’t need them,” she panted, never slowing her hips. 

 

His dropped from under her, his fingers stilling. “Dany, if we’re gonna stop, we need to stop right now,” he told her, voice wavering. “I can't handle much—” 

 

She pushed his hands away and reached for his shirttail working to pull it off of him as quickly, but gently, as she could. “I have an IUD in, it’s good for at least another year. And we're clean. They tested you at the hospital, we would already know if anything came up. And Margaery tested me. Now help me get this off,” she begged him. 

 

Relief flooded his face, and he didn't waste time sitting up and helping her remove his shirt. Thankfully, it was one of those gym shirts with the large arm holes so it slipped easily off his bad arm. “Remind me to send them thank you notes,” he chuckled with a wink, giving a panty melting grin. 

 

She giggled in return, but the air left her lungs, cutting it off. He'd pulled her flush to his naked chest and he was so hard and hot pressed against her, she wanted to pull him into her until they melded into one, never be parted from him again.  

 

There was no space left between them, but he was nowhere near as close as she needed him to be. Her hands searched every inch of the hot, smooth skin of his broad back and rippled sides they could reach, only leaving his broken shoulder untouched. He felt even better under her hands than she imagined he would. She was drowning in her need for him again, their very short interruption fading quickly from her mind.

 

His hands were adding flames to the fire, roaming all her lines and curves, pressing and gripping gently, almost as if he was cherishing his most prized possession, seeming to be preserving her body to his memory all the while. His fingers threaded their way through her hair, and he gently pulled her loose from his chest, guiding her back, letting them see each other. She swore his eyes were shining with unshed tears when she looked into them. 

 

“I love you, Dany. I love you so damn much it hurts. I can't believe you’re finally in my arms. It feels so amazing to finally hold you,” he barely managed to get out before covering her lips with his. His kiss was so tender and deep she felt as if she would shatter into a million pieces she was so overwhelmed.

 

Never had she felt more beautiful, loved, or wanted in her life and they'd barely even started.

 

She gasped into his mouth, trying as quietly as she could to choke back the sob that was threatening to close up her throat. “I love you, too. So much, Jon.”

 

Needing to distract herself from her sudden emotions and the tears threatening to spill she focused on the warm skin of his neck. She'd wanted to taste him there for weeks. Finally giving into the urge, she kissed, sucked, and licked her way from his collarbone to the hollow under his ear. His masculine smell and taste flooded her senses sending a shudder through her, causing her hips to pick up their rocking once more. She wanted to devour him.

 

“Dany," his breathy moan of her name only drove her deeper to the point of madness. 

 

She worked back down his neck and across his collarbone, then up the other side to his ear. “I need you inside me, Jon,” she breathed, grinding her hips.

 

He shuddered and stilled her with a hard grip. “I’m gonna explode like a fucking teenager if I don’t calm down first. Stand up for me, and let’s get these off,” he said, tugging at her denim shorts. 

 

She whined about it, but they had to come off either way and she couldn't do it sitting down, so she carefully climbed off of his lap and stood between his legs. She reached to undo her button, but he brushed her hands out of the way. “No ma’am, you’re my present, and you already tore the wrapping off the top half. Let me unwrap the bottom, at least.” He smiled up at her so adorably she wanted to cry again. She bit her lip instead and gave him a nod.

 

He hooked his fingers into her belt loops and tugged her a little closer. With maddening slowness, he slid the shiny silver button free of its hole, then the zipper down. Once again, his hands wrapped around her hips, but then his thumbs slid over the silk of her panties, up from the center of her pubic bone and across to her hip bones as his fingers sank under the denim covering her ass. The fabric caught on his knuckles, and was pulled down inch by agonizing inch as he moved his hands down her cheeks. She wiggled her hips to help the process along, but he shook his head at her, huffing out a laugh. 

 

“You’re in such a hurry, hummingbird. If we rush it’ll be over too soon.”

 

She nearly stomped her foot. “It’s been two years, Jon, but the last month seems like a lifetime in comparison. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment with you all my life, I don’t want to wait anymore,” she whimpered, gently gripping his hair hoping it would help steady her shaky legs, and let him know she was closer to the edge than he thought.

 

He looked up at her with so much love shining out of his beautiful brown eyes it immediately calmed her. He slid her shorts down to her knees, letting them fall the rest of the way on their own. His hands ran around the backs of her knees, teasing the sensitive skin with circling fingertips before running them up the back of her thighs, squeezing them when he reached the top. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, breathing her in deeply. 

 

“I’m sorry it’s been so long, that you had to wait all alone, that I didn’t find you sooner,” he whispered as he laid his cheek against her stomach and wrapped her in a gentle hug. 

 

Heart lodged painfully in her throat, nose and eyes burning, she loosened the grip she had on his hair, stroking the silky curls and his face instead. “It’s not your fault. There was no way for you to know. You found me as soon as you could. You’re here now,” she choked out, somehow finding her voice.

 

“I swear I’m gonna make it up to you and then some. I’ve been waiting for you just as long, Dany,” he murmured as he turned his face into her skin. “I’m going to love you so hard." Plush lips placed a wet, nibbling kiss to her right hip bone, his hot breath fanning over her skin–gooseflesh rising as he continued his way across the top edge of her panties. “You’ll never be alone again. I’ll always be here for you." A slow sucking taste just below her navel. "I’m going to cherish your heart, worship every inch of this glorious body,” he breathed, having reached her other hip, teeth scraping lightly over bone.

 

Only her fingers buried deep in his raven curls and his own hand gripping her thigh were keeping her upright. Then his other hand pulled her panties tightly up between her legs and her tenuous state slipped further away. She hadn’t registered until that moment how soaked they were. His mouth was hovering over her, panting breath heating her further, and seeing him there made her heart falter and trip behind her ribs. She went to protest, not knowing what he was going do, afraid she actually did, but then he sealed his lush mouth over her and forced his hot breath through the fabric and her knees buckled.

 

“Jon! What're... you... doing? You sh... shouldn’t,” she gasped and stuttered. But his even hotter tongue made a long slow sweep up the seam of her, the thin silk the only thing between them and a growl ripped from his chest, a noise she couldn’t describe leaving her own lips as she was left to hold herself up. He'd let her go, jerking her panties down her legs and she'd only thought she was self-conscious when he'd looked at her breasts. That was nothing compared to standing in front of him completely bare. The burning she'd been feeling throughout her body was suddenly all in her cheeks. 

 

She couldn't believe he'd just tasted her. 

 

_ Drogo never _ … 

 

She'd heard women talk about it, but she was always self-conscious and afraid to bring it up, and he never offered. He'd had an affinity for taking her from behind, and being the sheltered virgin she was when they married, they'd barely made it beyond that. Her pleasure had never been important to him, if she wanted any she had to take it, usually from herself. Their wedding night had been… Well, it was painful, embarrassing, and unfulfilling. And it was years before it got any better. If  _ better _ was even the word for it.

 

Suddenly Jon was standing in front of her, his white marbled chest and shoulders filling her vision, and she was startled back to the present. She couldn't look up at him though, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. But she  _ could _ fuss at him.

 

“Jon, your leg. I am  _ not _ letting you get hurt again. Please sit back down,” she said, gripping his sides and leaning her forehead against his chest. She'd meant her reprimand to sound stern, but it sounded like begging even to her ears.

 

A hand came up and palmed back of her head, fingers slipping soothingly against her scalp. “Shhh, I'm okay. Dr. Tyrell said I could put weight on it again, remember? And I swear to you I’m not going to do anything that could put an end to this,” he promised quietly.

 

_ Shit! Maybe if she got his pants off he’d sit. She'd know what to do with him then _ . 

 

She reached for them and pulled down, but his hands moved over hers stopping any progress. 

 

_ Damnit, she was gonna cry. She didn’t want to cry. _

 

“Love, will you look at me, please?” he whispered, gently lifting her chin with his fingers. 

 

She let him tilt her face up, but couldn't get her eyes to open to save her life, knowing the tears would fall if she did. He waited a few heartbeats for her to open them, but didn't ask again when she couldn’t. Instead, he cupped her face tenderly, his thumb rubbing slow path across her cheekbone. “He never made love to you that way, did he?” he asked so quietly she almost didn’t hear him above the pumping rush of blood through her ears. She shook her head and he sighed deeply, pulling her back against his chest, rubbing a palm over her back. A kiss was placed to the top of her head. “I mean no disrespect, but he was a fool. You taste divine.” She squeaked, and tucked herself against him tighter. “You look divine too, every inch of you,” he rumbled into her neck.

 

She knew instantly the inches he was speaking of. 

 

Margaery had taken her to the spa that day and bullied her into getting the works, which included a bikini wax. She'd nearly scalped her when they were finished. Now she was grateful she'd talked her into it. 

 

“Let me love you, Dany,” his voice vibrated deeply through his chest and into her ear. “I can make you come apart at the seams, make you scream my name, turn your bones to jelly. Then I can do it all again, over and over until you beg me stop. Let me worship you, love.”

 

With his words alone she nearly melted in his arms, the fire blazing as it never had, her juices beginning to run down her thighs. He must've felt the moment she surrender, because he lifted her face up again, and kissed her until she was a quivering mess, those luscious lips sucking at hers, tongue delving. All she could do was imagine them somewhere else. When he pulled away her eyes fluttered opened, and she thought she might orgasm where she stood the heat in his gaze was so intense. 

 

“Will you let me?” 

 

“Yes,” her mouth answered before her brain could even begin to think about it.

 

“Go to the dining room table, and lay down on your back for me,” he demanded quietly, his velvet voice seeming to slither into the base of her spine and all the way up her back, propelling her to do his bidding. She'd already taken two steps before she realized it, then remembered his leg. She stopped and turned back to see if he needed help getting there. 

 

“Do you want—?”

 

“Go, lay down, Dany. Now,” he ordered, his voice having dropped even deeper, those pitch black eyes boring into hers. 

 

She swallowed down a shuddering breath and hurried to the table. She was on her back before she had a chance to even think about her embarrassment. It came rushing back the moment she looked over to see him watching her. There she lay, butt naked on her dining room table while a man devoured her with his eyes. 

 

_ Miss Naomi was surely turning over in her grave. _

 

She squeezed her eyes shut, and gripped the edges of the table, her knuckles no doubt white. She had a much harder time figuring out what to do with her legs, trying several different positions, none of them feeling right.

 

“Knees up, feet flat, and legs spread, beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, making her nearly come off the table completely. He kissed her soft and sweet before she could protest. Then his lips left hers, trailing down her neck and collarbone, up the swell of her breast to her nipple, which he took into his warm mouth, suckling tenderly as he reached under her left knee and pulled it up and out to where he wanted it. Her right automatically followed on its own.

 

“Jon,” she sighed, the shudder running down her spine making her arch off the table, but she sank back down when he pulled away much sooner than she wanted.

 

“I’m sorry you have to be laid out this way, hummingbird. I had to be creative under the circumstances. Will you lift your head up? I have a pillow for you,” he asked, slipping it under her when she did. “I’d much rather lay you down in my nice soft bed. When I’m healed, it will be the first thing I do." She could hear the smile in his voice as he talked, his fingers running up the inside of her left thigh to her knee then down over her foot. “God Dany, you are so fucking gorgeous. Just the sight of you is almost too much for me,” he breathed out, sounding strained, and maybe even a tad overwhelmed from somewhere near the end of the table.

 

It helped to calm her, at least she wasn't the only one hanging by a raveling thread. But then she thought about the view he had, and her cheeks flamed again. The scrape of a chair across the floor made her jump and curse her nerves. She didn't want to be the silly inexperienced girl she probably was in comparison to most, but a woman instead, one deserving of pleasure, and returning it. 

 

“Open your eyes for me, love,” his velvet voice came back, demanding her compliance again a moment later. Her lids fluttered open, and she was greeted by the magnificent sight of him standing between her spread thighs. 

 

His raven curls were a sexy mess thanks to her hands running through them. A soft, gentle smile on his sweet face made her heart ache, big brown eyes blown black and flaming despite it, threatening to burn her under their gaze. He looked like a pale god bathed in sunlight, the warm light from the lamps in the room laying across his smooth, taut skin. His lean muscles defined beautifully by the shadows they cast. 

 

His scars were the only thing marring his perfection, but they meant so much to her. She would be dead if they had never laid their ruin to his perfect flesh. She didn’t see them as ugly and disfiguring, but as medals of honor. She had the sudden urge to sit up and kiss them all, but she only got as far as her elbows before the heel of his right hand pressed into her pubic bone, his fingers spreading across her pelvis–stopping her advance. 

 

It didn't stop her from getting her first proper look at his cock, however. She couldn't feel it, but imagined her eyes dilated at the sight of it, proud and pale pink, straining from the dark thatch of hair, the head plump and weeping. Her cunt clenched, empty and wanting as she watched it suddenly jerk, then bob around for a few seconds. 

 

“Fuck, Dany," he groaned. "You’re going to do me in if you keep looking at me like that." He sat down, taking it out of sight and brought his forehead to rest about halfway up the inside of her left thigh for a moment before placing slow, warm, wet kisses over the sensitive skin, making all other thoughts leave her mind in a flash.

 

He looked at her, eyes full of his heart and heat, rubbing his nose and lips up and down the inside of her leg, his fingers wrapped around the outside doing the same. He dipped his nose closer to her throbbing center, breathing in, and his eyes fell closed, a look of bliss overtaking his beautiful face.

 

There were a million questions spinning in her mind, all begging to be asked, but having him between her thighs, seeing and feeling his perfect mouth sucking on her skin–all she wanted was to know what it would feel like elsewhere, and she wanted to find out right then. 

 

Something in her expression must have given her thoughts away, that soft smile came back to his face as he kissed her leg one more time. “I love you. I’ll stop anytime you want me to, okay? All you have to do is ask,” he told her softly and sat back. He pulled his chair closer to the table, and adjusted himself carefully before reaching for her left foot and tugging it toward him. “Rest this foot on my thigh, maybe it’ll help keep it away from my shoulder. I know it’ll be hard, but you have to keep it still. We’ll both enjoy this immensely as long as I don’t get hurt,” he husked.

 

“I promise I won’t move a muscle,” she whispered. 

 

His small smile stretched into a wicked smirk. “Oh, yes, you will, I’ll make sure of it,” he purred. “I’ll help you hold still when it gets too hard though.”

 

She watched, simply frozen, heart hammering and blood singing as his eyes locked onto her aching cunt, his fingers reaching out for her, landing on the small strip of hair that had been spared from the evil wax. Her breath hitched as he slid them ever so slowly down and over her swollen, sensitive skin, then again. She shuddered, but managed to hold herself still, her breathing on the other hand was quickly getting out of control, her head spinning.

 

“You’re so beautiful. So soft and smooth,” he murmured dreamily. “And you’re so damn wet and swollen.  _ Fuck _ ," he rasped, rough and tattered. "I may explode just watching you." He groaned as he continued to stroke her. She whimpered in response. It was taking everything in her to keep her hips from rising up with each teasing pass he made. “Did you do this for me?” he asked running his whole hand, fingertips to heel, up and over her smooth, wet, swollen lips, pressing and gripping before sliding back down again. 

 

She whimpered and whined, thighs shaking, taking in as much air as she could and tried to answer him. “Margaery. Took me… to the… spa. Oh, God. Uhnhg.” 

 

She swore if he made one more stroke over her she'd shatter. 

 

_ It had been so damn long. _

 

Her warning of his next move were his hands wrapping around her, one on her left calf, holding it tightly, the other grasping her right thigh. His dark raven head bent over her, and she watched as his tongue reached out, pink and wet, and licked her slowly from ass to clit. "Jon!" She fell back against the pillow beneath her, trembling from head to toe.

 

“Fuck, you taste like heaven,” she barely heard him growl over her panting. 

 

Her hands gripped the table, anything to keep her moored, as he made his second pass, then a third. By the fourth, her back was arched, head tossing, legs shaking. “Oh, God! Jon!” 

 

She wanted him to stop, but she'd die if he did. 

 

_ So much, too much. More. She wanted more. _

 

She got it, the tip of his tongue slowly circling her clit, once, twice, three times, before flicking it gently. She smothered a scream behind her hand, her hips bolting off the table as if he'd shocked her. His right arm came across her hips and pressed them back down, holding them tight. There wasn't a chance to draw in anymore air before he put his mouth over her, sealing them together, the connection slick and soft and searing. A surge of the most intense pleasure she had ever felt engulfed her. 

 

Whatever he was doing to her was not sweet indulgence. It was fierce, raw and sharp, and she was completely powerless in its hold. The moment she felt as if she would die if he didn't stop, she splintered into a thousand shards. A scattering of stars across a velvet sky. The pleasure had barely slowed when a growl sounded above her. “Fucking gorgeous,” she heard, then she was filled, the long, empty ache she thought would never end banished as his fingers slowly slid inside of her. A weeping moan in her ears, cunt clasping tight, and the stars shone brighter. She was dying, she had to be.

 

“Fuck, Dany. You're so fucking hot and wet,” he groaned, sliding his fingers almost all the way out then back in again–stretching her, filling her, consuming her. “You need to come again, beautiful. Once this glorious cunt wraps around me, I’ll be done for." His fingers slid out again only to curl and pull against something deep inside of her.

 

Her hips bolted off the table as she let out a low keening wail. 

 

“That’s it, love,” he coaxed, slowly pulling and pressing, over and over again, faster and faster. The wet squelching, lewd and lush. Her head thrashing, screams stuck in her throat as he built her to an even more exquisite level of torment than before. “Come for me,” he demanded softly, fingers unrelenting. Her body gave into his command, and the world fell away, wave after wave threatening to drown her in their raging torrent. Welcoming the zealous embrace, she rode it blissfully, seeming to float for an age, but once again the tide had only just begun to fall when a new swell rose up to take her. 

 

Pleasure crashed against a lifetime of barely repressed pain, a storm wave meeting a towering cliff's edge, breaking open her soul–a wide, gaping chasm left inside of her heart. She was swallowed down into its depths and a gut wrenching wail split the air as she fell. Body racked, uncontrollable sobs took her. She was helpless against the torrent, knowing nothing but the overwhelming anguish pulling and dragging her down.

 

It carried her away, so far she feared she'd never find her way back, but then it let go and she began to rise, a sense of release taking hold. With it came light and hope and love. Latching on desperately, she somehow knew if she held on she could save herself from the darkness. Slowly she let it pull her through the storm, a calm she'd long forgotten enveloping her as strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close, a soothing voice whispering in her ear. 

 

“Shhh, hummingbird. I’ve got you and I’ll never let you go. I love you, Dany. You’re safe now. I swear it.”

 

_ She knew that voice. _

 

Warmth flooded her as she clung to Jon, washed up upon the shore.  _ Safe _ once more. __

 

They were in the chair he'd been sitting in, and she was straddling his lap, their arms gathering each other close. How she had gotten there she didn't know, nor did she care. There was nowhere else she wanted to be. A shuddering sigh ran through her and she relaxed within his hold, spent and suddenly boneless.

 

His arms tightened around her. "Dany,  _ please. _ "

 

The pure grief, raw and ragged, held within his voice had her sitting up in shock. She was met with the sight of his beautiful face, etched with fear, eyes full of sorrow, cheeks wet with tears. The pain threatened to take her all over again. “Oh no, Jon, don’t. Please don't. I’m so sorry,” she breathed, fingers fretful as they brushed across his damp cheeks.

 

“Oh thank fuck,” he gasped, cupping her face, brushing her damp hair from it. “Are you okay? You scared the ever-lovin’ shit out of me,” he swore harshly, then hugged her against his chest, his hold almost desperate. “Promise me you won’t ever do that to me again. Please? I swear I won’t ever push you so far again, okay? Never again,” he promised in a hurried stream. 

 

Choking down a sob, she rubbed her hand over his messy curls, and placed kisses to his shoulder, allowing herself time to get a better grip on her tears. As soon as she had she sat up and stared into his wide, worried eyes. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it, but I’m okay now. I’m more than okay,” she whispered, peppering his face with kisses, hoping to erase his hurt, to assure him her words were true.

 

She was okay. Better than. Whatever had broken open within her had fled through her tears and the wracking sobs. She felt lighter, the darkness having ebbed, even if she was left a bit wrung out.

 

His worry only seemed to deepen though, his brow drawn up, full mouth turned hard. She attempted to soothe it all away with her fingers, running them over his furrowed brow, her thumb across his lips. He ignored her, his own wiping away her fresh tears that refuse to stay put. “You’re still crying. Please stop crying. I can't stand it, Dany,” he begged. 

 

She leaned closer and gently kissed him, his beard tickling. Smiling softly, she sat up and tucked his curls behind his ears. “They’re good tears, sweetie. Tears of joy and love.” 

 

His responding scowl was dark and deep as he pointed to the table behind them. “Those were no fucking tears of joy, Dany," he bit out. "And they certainly weren’t ones of any kind of love I’ve ever seen." To someone else he would've sounded angry, but she recognized the fear lacing his words. And it broke her heart she'd scared him so.

 

She shook her head, stroking his sweet face. “The ones I shed there weren’t, you’re right about them,” she agreed quietly. “Those were years’ worth of locked up pain being washed away. They were healing tears that you helped me find.” She pulled his hand up to her cheek, using his knuckles to wipe away the fresh tear that fell as she closed her eyes. “These are the tears that come after those. The ones that fall from happiness. The ones that fall because I love you. From knowing you love me, too,” she choked out, cupping his hand in both of hers and kissing his knuckles. She nuzzled and kissed until his hand opened and pressed against her cheek. When she looked up at him the fear and worry had begun to fade from his beautiful eyes, though there was still some left troubling his brow.

 

“You swear you’re okay?” he asked, voice still raw and cracked. 

 

Giving a nod, she turned and kissed his palm. "I swear."

 

He brought his other hand up and gently pulled her close enough to rest his forehead against hers, a deep shuddering breath leaving him. “I hope to God it never happens again, but if it does, please warn me first. I’ve never felt so helpless, or hated myself more,” he whispered, tight and strained. 

 

Despite the ease shedding some of her pain had given her, she wasn't sure adding to Jon's was worth it. It tore at her heart, threatening to steal the joy they had found.  Needing him freed from it, she took his face in her hands again, bringing his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry I scared you, my love,” she told him softly, breath hitching, "but please listen to me. You were perfect. You  _ are _ perfect." She scratched her nails through his beard, suckled at his bottom lip, kissed his nose. "You gave me something I didn't know was possible, something I desperately needed. And I love you all the more for it." 

 

She kissed him then, devoted and determined to pull him into the light with her. He moaned into her mouth, fingers threading into her hair as he kissed her back tenderly. It wasn't until then she noticed the growing swell of his cock nestled tight within the cradle of her hips. She rocked forward, a quiet gasp escaping, the movement having sent her clit sliding down the hard ridge. Undeterred by their emotional upheaval, she was still soaked for him, and apparently he was just as eager for her.

 

“Let me make it… up to you,” she panted, rising high enough to feel the swollen head pressing against her entrance, so close to slipping inside where she wanted him most. “I want to be yours, Jon,” she begged, hips circling, her juices a slick mess between them. 

 

He growled, his hands moving to tightly grip her ass. Pulling her up, he tilted her hips to fit his own, and smoothly slid her down over him. 

 

The air simply left her, her head thrown back, the feel of him stretching her so completely making her head spin, the pressure exquisite. He seemed to groan and growl at once, the vibrations shuddering through her from the inside out. Her cunt clasped and clenched around him in return, thighs already trembling, hips rolling. Jon moaned, face buried in her neck, teeth taking a gentle bite as his right arm wrapped around her like a steel band to press and hold her tightly down over him.

 

“Just be still, be still,” he whispered to himself, or her. Which, she wasn't sure. 

 

She froze as best she could, but her body had a mind of its own. The long drought was over, and it wanted nothing more than to celebrate itself into exhaustion. She shivered and shook as her greedy cunt tried to pull him deeper, to swallow him down, to devour so she could be devoured in return.

 

He grunted at that, grip tightening. “Fuck Dany. You need to be still,” he begged, sounding almost distraught.

 

For some reason she smiled. “I’m trying, but you feel so good I can't help it,” she whimpered. If she could get him to let go, she knew she'd follow right behind him. Nails scraping against his scalp, she grasped a handful of curls and pulled his head back. Eyes gone dazed and black as pitch, he stared at her, wicked mouth open, plush and bruised pink, his panting breaths needing an escape. He was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. “I don’t care if it’s fast, please let me move. We can do again right after if you want. Let me love you, Jon. Please,” she pleaded with him squeezing him with purpose. 

 

He licked his lips and swallowed hard but his hold on her relaxed as he gave a nod. The second she was freed her hips rose on impulse then slowly fell back down again. A moan came from deep inside his chest, dark and guttural, his breathing instantly becoming more labored, but he reached for her breasts, palming them, squeezing and kneading as she ground over him.

 

"Dany." 

 

His eyes fell closed, dark lashes brushing his flushed cheeks. He was shaking under her, his restraint apparently nearing the breaking point. She was already at the edge herself, hanging by a thread. Then his fingers found her nipples, twisted and pulled, and her hips thrust forward. Soon enough she was riding him, grinding harder with each stroke, taking him to the very depths of her.

 

And that was all it took.

 

"Jon."

 

Lights danced bright behind her eyes as she gasped his name. She felt him swell impossibly harder, pulse inside of her clenching and clasping cunt that milked him, drank him down–reveling in the sounds of a thousand little deaths torn from his throat and her own as pleasure sharp and sweet splintered and sparked within her.

 

Jon grunted, hips pumping up into her, his whole body shuddering. A limp, shaky mess she was left trying to stay upright as long as she could. Eventually his arms pulled her closer, and she collapsed against his chest and shoulder panting hard right along with him. They stayed that way for quite a while, just holding each other, melted into a weak and sated mess. There wasn't much else they could manage after the physical and emotional wrenching they'd had. 

 

After a time, he began to run a hand over her hair and back, place tiny kisses over her temple and cheek. “Are you alright?” he breathed into her ear.

 

“Mmmmm, I’m perfect,” she murmured returning a kiss to his neck while she reached up and stroked his face. “How are you?”

 

“Minus the ache in my broken bones, I couldn't be more perfect.” 

 

She sat up and looked into his eyes to make sure. There was no trace of pain to be found on his beautiful face, only happiness and love shining back as he smiled at her, drunk and dazed. 

 

They stared at each other for the longest time, hands softly roaming faces, necks, and backs, but eyes staying firmly locked together.

 

“I love you,” he finally whispered. 

 

Those three, simple, quiet words soaked into her heart, wrapping it up tightly in their warm embrace, adding to the healing it had already experienced that night. She could hear how long they'd truly waited to be said, the depth of conviction behind them, and endless promise they held. It was as if he was telling her for the very first time again, only with purpose instead of a slip of the tongue.

 

She took them into her heart that way, vowing never to forget how he said them, before returning them to him with all that she was and a smile. "I love you, too."

 


	17. Your Heart is a Masterpiece and I'll Keep it Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night and morning following the smut that was promised. Lots of sweetness and heart tugging angst as our loves continue to let go and let each other in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peeks from under my rock. I'm so sorry this one took so long. I had hoped to post on Monday, but one of my many chronic illnesses reared its ugly head and I've just been trying to survive. I'm down to about seven or eight foods that don't send me straight into anaphylaxis, it's not fun, let me tell you. 
> 
> I must give all my love and thanks to Ashley and Jalenmara for helping me with this chapter. It was a MESS!!! With their gentle guidance and patience I think I got it whipped into shape. I love you ladies to the moon and back! Even if we weren't writing buddies my days would be empty without them, they save me. You guys have no idea. And Wolvenstorm needs adding to that list as well <3
> 
> Enough babbling, you guys enjoy! Love and hugs to you all!

  


I'll keep you safe

Try hard to concentrate

Hold out your hand

Can you feel the weight of it

The whole world at your fingertips

Don't be, don't be afraid

Our mistakes they were bound to be made

But I promise you I'll keep you safe

You'll be an architect

So pull up your sleeves

And build a new silhouette

In the skylines up ahead

Don't be, don't be afraid

Our mistakes they were bound to be made

But I promise you I'll keep you safe

I'll keep you safe

And darkness will be rewritten

Into a work of fiction, you'll see

As you pull on every ribbon

You'll find every secret it keeps

The sound of the branches breaking under your feet

The smell of the falling and burning leaves

The bitterness of winter or the sweetness of spring

You are an artist

And your heart is your masterpiece

And I'll keep it safe

 

Sleeping At Last - I'll Keep You Safe

  


"I love you," she whispered.

 

He could see her heart in her eyes as she said the words and knew she truly trusted him with it, that it was a little less fragile than before. His throat threatened to close at the realization. She really had done some healing. He pulled her into his arms, and held onto her for dear life, thankful they were still in the chair, he didn't think his legs would hold him right then. 

 

“Thank you,” he managed to get out in a strangled whisper. 

 

She hugged him, her arms careful around him, doing her best not to cause him pain. “What do you have to thank me for, silly? You’ve done so much more for me than I have you,” she murmured softly against his neck.

 

He gently pushed her back and stared at her sweet face as he brushed some damp hair behind her ear, slowly shaking his head at her. “Knowing you love me makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. I never knew it was even possible to be this happy.” That brought a smile to her face that he couldn't help but return. He pulled her lips to his, kissing her with every ounce of love he felt for her.

 

By the time they broke away to catch their breath, she was clinging to him desperately. “Swear you’ll never leave me,” she pleaded in a small child-like whimper. 

 

His heart seized, ice cold fear shooting through him.

 

She'd been so calm and happy. 

 

_If he had to watch her go through that torture again…_

 

“I swear it, Dany. I swear it,” he promised her, hands stroking her gently, peppering kisses to her shoulder and neck. “I fought death just to be able to see your beautiful face again and I won. Imagine how hard I'm going to fight now that I love you. I’ll never let anything take me away from you.” 

 

She didn’t respond, keeping her hold on him tight. He held her right back praying for all he was worth that the fear would let go of her. That having him with her was enough to fight it off.

 

His soul ached for the day she would no longer have pain and fear stalking her every move. No more demons to haunt her. When her words and cries would stop ripping his heart out and they could leave their pasts behind, find some peace.

 

He felt the tension slowly easing from her muscles, her hold on him going a bit slack. He held his breath, waiting. “I love you, Jon,” she finally whispered, turning her head to kiss the side of his neck and the air left him in one big gust hearing how calm she sounded. 

 

“I love you more,” he told her, palming the back of her head and pressing a kiss to her hair.

 

She gently pulled out of his arms and sat up. There were only a few tears sliding down her cheeks, but he still hated to see them. He wiped them away with a thumb while she smiled at him pitifully and blew out a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” 

 

He cupped her face in his hand, feeling certain the ache in his heart was written clearly across his face. “Don’t. I love you. Mess and all."

 

She looked as if she very well might cry again, but thankfully smiled instead, her soft hands slowly brushing his messy hair off his face. “You’re too perfect for words, Jon Snow," she whispered, before leaning in and kissing him. 

 

“No more than you are,” he husked, a sort of hush coming over him, all the weights falling away as she stared back at him, ocean eyes heavy and somehow warm despite their coolness. Her naked skin pressed to his, the silky heat of her cunt still wrapped around him, the weight of her seeming to be the only thing holding him down. He thought he'd be content to stay just as they were for the rest of his days. 

 

After a few more soft kisses, Dany tucked herself under his chin and let out a sated sigh, but then he felt her shake against him. A shock of worry shot through him and he was just about to make her look at him when she giggled. 

 

“You sounded like something straight out of a fairy tale romance. Willing to fight death, heaven, and hell for me. I love you, my brave, brave knight,” she sighed dramatically, followed by more giggles. 

 

He laughed with her, wholly unbothered at being made fun of. "What can I say, I live to serve you, My Queen."

 

She snorted at that and snuggled deeper into him. He laid his cheek against her hair, soaking in her happiness. Her giggles were music to his ears, he’d trade them over her tears any day.

 

He'd been one second away from coming all over her luscious cunt and thighs when she'd let out that keening wail. He did a one-eighty so fucking fast he got a head rush right before his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. 

 

She'd swore it helped her release some of her pain– not that he even remotely understood how the hell it did. He guessed he needed to be thankful something good came out of it, but he’d rather get shot again than see her like that one more time. 

 

If it kept happening, he'd need months of therapy. He doubted he'd ever get the sound of her heart wrenching sobs out of his head, or the feel of her clinging to him as if he were the only thing between her and the demons trying to drag her to hell. Watching her, hearing it, the only thoughts in his head were that _he'd_ done that to her, caused those soul wracking sobs, the heart-breaking wails and flood of tears. And knew without a doubt she would hate him forever once she found her way out of the torment. He would’ve gladly traded places with her, and let the demons take him as punishment. He deserved nothing less for doing that to her. 

 

_Maybe he already needed therapy._

 

He would've done anything for her before, had already sworn to himself he would never let her go, but now? She was his. Whatever she wanted or needed, it was hers. Come hell or high water, she’d have it. He’d slay demons all day and night, or move any mountain that got in her way.

 

“Did I knock you out up there?” she murmured bringing him out of his thoughts. He grunted and felt her cheek pull up into a smile against his chest.

 

“Pretty damn close,” he sighed, smiling into her tousled hair. His hands had made a mess of it. Poor thing was gonna have a time brushing all the knots out. She sat up and looked at him, her smile as satisfied as he'd ever seen it. She'd never been more beautiful, sex hair and all. 

 

"Why don't we go get in the shower? I can wash you all clean," she suggested with a wry smirk.

 

He rumbled back at the thought. "That sounds fantastic, but are you really going to let me in the shower again?"  

 

Her cute little nose snarled up. "Maybe we better not, I don't know that I trust you to keep this," she grinned and reached down, pinching the side of his ass, "award winning ass on the bench. I'll just give you a sponge bath instead."

 

He snorted and gave his eyebrows a waggle. "Award winning is it?" he asked with a smirk.

 

She nodded and smiled enthusiastically. "Yeah, I bet it could win one of those huge cup trophies that take four guys to lift up."

 

He barked out a laugh. "So that's your favorite part of me, huh?"

 

Her eyebrows and lips twisted up like she had to think about it hard, then she smiled sweetly. "It''s right up there in the top five for sure, but it's not my most favorite."

 

Deciding they were both thoroughly enjoying the teasing he pressed his hips up into her. Somehow his cock hadn't gone completely soft yet. "Is this your favorite then?"

 

She rolled her eyes and giggled again. "It's in the top five too, but still not number one."

 

Giving her his best wounded look, he laid on the hurt pretty thick. "I'm crushed. I thought for sure it would at least make the top three," he pouted.

 

Her laughter filled the room and made his heart swell impossibly bigger. "Poor baby," she cooed as she gently pushed out of his arms and eased herself off his lap, wincing a bit as he slid free. He missed her softness and heat immediately. "Come on. Let's get you to bed. I have a feeling you're going to be paying for all this _exercise_ real soon," she told him, her hand held out for him to take. 

 

He shook the sex haze out of his brain and let her help him up. She was right, all the _exercise_ was bound to hit him hard soon, but no matter how much it might hurt, he knew it was worth it. So damn worth it. 

 

\---

 

They managed to get him up and into the bathroom. Dany insisted he use his crutch, not trusting his noodle legs. Leaving him for a few minutes of privacy, she ran into the bedroom and threw on a t-shirt before going back. She got him washed up as he brushed his teeth, wiping down his beautiful body with a wet hand towel before drying him off– more kisses left over his pale skin and a playful smack given to his perfect ass. It really was worthy of an award.  

 

He rolled his eyes but threw her a smirk over his shoulder as he made his way across the hall and into the bedroom, under her watchful gaze. She didn't give herself a moment to clean up until she saw him sit down on the bed and got a promise he would stay there.

 

Closing the door, she hurried and did her business, and then wiped herself down too, even though she really wanted a shower. She slipped her t-shirt back on, brushed her teeth, then picked up her hairbrush. Sex hair didn't even begin to describe the mess it was in. 

 

She was almost finished when it struck her; the face reflecting back at her in the mirror was one she barely recognized. It had been so long since she'd seen herself look so _free._ The dark circles were gone from under her eyes, a pink flush colored her usually pale skin, the lines of her past, always deep set between her brows and around her mouth were replaced with a smooth soft smile she couldn't seem to contain. 

 

The brush was forgotten, her fingers running over her skin as she stared. A sudden bubble of pained laughter escaped her throat. She was happy, so happy, yet grieved for all the time she had lost. But she pushed the sadness aside– she couldn't change the years already gone. Those ahead.... _Those_ she would live differently. The woman looking back at her was still young, her broken pieces mending back together, her heart holding hope once more.

 

She would not live in the past any longer, alone and afraid. She was tired of being in that cold, black hole of torment. She had to move on, be thankful she was still there, and look forward to the future. She'd been given a second chance at life, and love, she was going to take those chances and pour her whole self into them. Was going to love Jon and let him love her back for however long they'd be given. She knew better than most how quickly loved ones could be taken away, how precious life was, so she was determined to make the most of it with him. 

 

Her choice made, she finished brushing her hair and went to Jon.

 

She found him right where he promised he'd be, but laying down instead of sitting up. His eyes were closed, his breathing even. Ghost was laid out near his feet, watchful eyes focused on her as she came in and stood at Jon's side, his tail thumping softly against the bed. She reached over and scratched behind his ear before bracing herself over Jon, brushing the backs of her fingers down his cheek. 

 

"Jon," she murmured. His long lashes fluttered open, dark and dreamy eyes finding hers, her heart turning over at the sweet smile he gave her. She returned it with one of her own. "Feel like sitting up? You need to take a pain pill and I need to rewrap your arm."

 

"Yeah, okay," he said, his voice already deep and rough with sleep. He held his hand up and she took it, bracing herself as he pulled against her weight to sit himself up.

 

She gave him his pain pill first, dropping it into his palm. He'd probably sleep like a log after their night, but she thought the meds might help keep his pain from being too bad in the morning.

 

Guilt stabbed at her for letting things get so vigorous between them– he could've gotten hurt again so easily– but thankfully he hadn't and she'd made sure they were as careful as they could be.

 

Doctor Tyrell had whispered to her saucily before she left Friday afternoon that she could ' _take her pretty boy for a spin or two again if she was careful with him_.' She'd cackled all the way to her car after Dany's cheeks had flamed.

 

They'd taken each other for a spin or two alright, no doubt the doctor would be proud.

 

Jon was still looking at the pill laying in his palm, his brow furrowed. She lightly scratched her nails down his scruffy jaw to wake him up. "Hey you, no going to sleep until you take that," she said playfully. 

 

He looked up at her, his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but he winced instead and dropped his eyes back down to the pill. Something tugged at her, a worry or intuition maybe. She could blame his sluggish behavior on just being tired– she certainly was– but somehow knew that wasn't what was concerning him. She tilted his head back with gentle fingers at his chin. "You okay?"

 

His other hand cupped her thigh, rubbing slowly up and down. He nodded. "I'm okay. Hand me the water, please?" he asked, his sweet smile coming back.

 

She gave him a narrow-eyed frown, but passed him the water, taking it back once he'd swallowed his pill. Whatever had been bothering him seemed to disappear with it, so she let it go.

 

They didn't fool with getting boxers back on him, but she re-wrapped his arm and made sure his pins were cleaned too. She also ran her fingers through his messy hair, only finding a few knots her greedy hands had left behind.  She thought she could play with his hair for hours, it was so silky and springy she couldn't resist, and she knew Jon would gladly let her too. The poor thing was a limp noodle, his head laid against her chest, good arm wrapped around her thighs, fingers lightly rubbing her skin.

 

He raised his head up, propping his chin on her stomach, those big doe eyes so warm and sweet she felt herself melt a little. He was so beautiful it hurt. She gently took his face in her hands, looking down into those dark eyes shining up at her through heavy sleepy lids. "I love you," she whispered, brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones as she leaned down and pressed her forehead to his. "You're so perfect," she breathed against his lips and kissed him softly.

 

"I'm not perfect," he grumbled the moment she pulled away. 

 

She stood up and gave him a scowl as she gripped his chin. "You are to me."

 

He pulled her down onto his lap and stared at her as if she were his favorite thing– brushed her hair off her shoulder, placed soft kisses to her lips, cheeks, and nose, and finally rested his brow against hers. "When you were gone today," he whispered, "I was a mess." She sat back, worried and frowning. He nodded. "Ask Robb the next time you see him, he gave me shit for it the whole time." 

 

"But why?" she asked softly. "And why didn't you tell me you were upset?" she added, growing upset herself. 

 

He shrugged. “I wanted you to have a good time, and not feel guilty for getting out of the house. You've been taking care of me for weeks, you deserved some time away."dl

 

"That doesn't tell me why you were upset."

 

He dropped his head, watching his fingers play with hers. "Because when you walked out the door it felt like I got ripped in two. You took one half with you, and I was left trying to figure out how to make the rest of me still work without you," he admitted quietly.

 

She didn't know whether she wanted to cry or smile, so she did a little of both, but only after she'd wrapped her arms around him and tucked her face into his neck.

 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, kissing his warm skin. "I should've let you come with me."

 

"No," he said, coaxing her out of hiding with a gentle hand. "I didn't tell you to make you feel bad, I'm trying to help you see…" He shook his head, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. He opened them back up and gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I'm not good at this."

 

"Yes, you are. Keep going."

 

He nodded and laced their fingers together, eyes avoiding hers again. "We've been together so much, I just missed you. Was worried about you being alone. If you were as anxious as me. I knew you were coming back, and that you don't need me to protect you or be there twenty-four seven, but it didn’t stop that hollow feeling in my chest from gnawing at me for hours." He looked up and leaned close, running his nose along hers. "That didn't go away until I saw you walking back through the door," he whispered. "Maybe I need some serious help, but when you’re near me, when you touch me, I feel whole, like I finally have a home again," he told her, voice soft and raspy. He pulled away, large liquid eyes meeting hers. "When I’m in your arms, I'm home."

 

Tears swelled up and burned her her own eyes, she couldn't help it. Perfect didn't even begin to describe Jon Snow. He tugged her close, and she quickly fit herself against his side, tucking her face into his neck again. He held her and stroked her hair, letting her cry if she needed, wonderful man that he was. But she didn't give into the tears.

 

She sat back up and wiped her eyes free of them as she took a deep breath. "You can't say such sweet things unless you want a girl to cry," she teased him.

 

He smirked, a sweet blush on his cheeks, a warm palm running up her back in soothing strokes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, but I needed you to know. I think you're perfect too."

 

She leaned her head against his, reaching up lightly scraped her nails through his beard. “Then we're both in good hands, huh?”

 

He smiled and gave her a kiss. “Yeah, I think so,” he whispered.

 

Ghost was suddenly standing behind her, his raspy tongue licking at her ear. She giggled and turned to pet him, her hand disappearing into his thick fluffy fur as he came in for more kisses. 

 

"Sit, Ghost," Jon ordered, calm but firm. Ghost did as he was told, but was still eager for pets, leaning into the scratches she was giving him. "I think he already loves you too," Jon chuckled, giving a shake to the scruff of his neck.

 

"I have a feeling he would love anyone as long as they gave him a good scratch." 

 

"Probably, but I'll send him back to Gendry if he starts hogging you," he threatened.

 

“No, you won’t,” she fussed with a grin, reaching over and pinching his nipple. 

 

He raised his eyebrows at her. She giggled and rubbed the backs of her finger over it to soothe it of her offense.

 

“Not helping,” he teased her, pumping his hips– and hardening cock– up against her thigh.

 

"Down boy," she laughed. "No more fun for either of you till morning. We all need sleep."

 

She stood from his lap and took Ghost to the living room, reminding him where his bed was. He climbed in, spun around a few times then finally laid down. After giving him a pet to the head she tiptoed back to the bedroom and quietly shut the door behind her.

 

Jon fussed as she helped him get settled, but she got his leg supported with a few pillows. He wouldn't hear of her putting any in between them though, or her t-shirt either. "If I'm sleeping naked, so are you, I want to feel your skin next to mine." He was so sweet and pouty she couldn't refuse him so she took the shirt off and snuggled up to his right side keeping her legs bent back and away from his. She could always put a safe distance between them once he fell asleep.

 

So there she lay, skin to skin with the man she loved, holding him and being held. They were both thoroughly sated, warm and clean, and she was achy in places she'd forgotten could even be achy. It was hard to keep the smile off her face because of it all, too. He was running his fingers through her hair and against her scalp, while hers ran over his chest, playing with the little bit of hair he had there and it all just felt _right_.

 

Perfect even.

 

She couldn't remember the last time she was so relaxed and at peace.

 

She thought she might actually feel whole again.

 

Just as his breathing and heartbeat were lulling her to sleep she felt a kiss pressed to the top of her head. "Sweet dreams, hummingbird. I love you," he whispered.

 

"I love you, too. Sleep tight," she returned and let sleep take her.

  


\---

 

She slowly woke up feeling a warm, hard body pressed against her back while a hand and lips trailed over her bare skin. At first she thought she was dreaming, then memories of the night before flooded her consciousness and she couldn't help but shiver as her body remembered its new admirer.

 

 _Jon_.

 

"Good morning, beautiful. Did you have sweet dreams?" he husked, slowly kissing his way up her neck, his lips soft, beard scratchy.

 

His voice in her ear turned her into a contented pile of warm mush. She hummed happily and turned over, being mindful of his shoulder and leg. "Good morning, handsome," she returned, smiling up at him, her fingers going straight to his case of very sexy bed head. It was way too adorable to resist. "No dreams, but I slept better than I have in ages. How about you?"

 

He smiled down at her, his hand trailing slowly over her stomach. He looked happier than she'd ever seen him. It was impossible not to smile right back. He was so gorgeous with his messy hair, scruffy beard, and that smile shining out of his pretty brown eyes. She loved seeing it on his face and knowing it was all for her.

 

"What's got you so happy this morning?" she asked after several long minutes passed of nothing but smiles between them.

 

He leaned down and kissed from her forehead to her nose. "You. Me. Us. I don't have to keep it in any more. I can say it as often as I want to now."

 

"Say what?" she asked, pretending to have no clue what he was talking about even though they both knew she did.

 

He laughed and tickled her. "Tease. You know what."

 

She tried to keep her act going through her giggles but it was a lost cause. "I have….. Aah!! No stop! I have no idea what… Jon!!"

 

"What was that?" he asked smirking, his hand curled into a claw over her stomach threatening to tickle her some more.

 

The meanie knew she wouldn't squirm and kick for fear of hurting him.

 

"Ihavenoideawhatyou'retalkingabout!" she squealed and gently grabbed his hand to protect herself.

 

He buried his face into her neck and she giggled again, expecting more tickles but instead getting warm wet kisses and his lips brushing against her ear. "I love you."

 

Her breath hitched, along with her heart skipping a beat or two, hearing his declaration again.

 

He loved her. This beautiful amazing man loved her.

 

In no time he had her panting and moaning as he continued to explore her neck with his lips and tongue.

 

She pulled her head back before he rendered her speechless and looked into his beautiful brown eyes while her fingers trailed over his scruffy jaw. "I love you, too," she whispered.

 

Those eyes instantly changed from shiny and bright to dark and intense right before his lips crashed against hers. More moans escaped her throat as his tongue swept into her mouth and another part of him pressed into her hip.

 

She shivered remembering how good he felt inside of her the night before. She wanted him there again so she told him so. "I need you, Jon. Now," she panted against his lips.

 

"Soon, love. Let me touch you for a while," his velvet voice whispered in her ear, as his hand and lips began to roam again.

 

He bent his head over her breast and she watched as his tongue swirled around her nipple. Her hips bucked as a bolt of pleasure ran straight to her core, but his hand was already there to press them back down again. He kept his attention slow and steady, licking and sucking her nipple as if it was a sugary treat he wanted to last forever. His hand was cupped over her mound, her hips rising and falling, desperate for more friction. It had only been minutes and she was already at the edge. Her body had never responded so readily before. Jon played it as if he knew its every string, note, and chord by heart. 

 

"Jon, please," she begged him, reaching down between them to wrap her hand around his length, squeezing gently, hoping to spur him on. It worked, somewhat.

 

"Greedy," he growled, her nipple trapped between his teeth, his hips pumping his cock against her palm. "Scoot up so I can reach you better."

 

"But I won't be able to reach you."

 

"We'll worry about me after, now scoot up."

 

She did as he asked and his name ripped from her throat as his fingers slid within her wet aching walls a second later and immediately pressed against that spot deep inside that only Jon knew. His thumb was rolling over her clit, tongue flicking the nipple he'd sucked into his mouth. A few blissfully torturous moments later she came all over his hand.

 

"That's an even more beautiful sight than the morning sun," she heard him whisper through her heavy breathing.

 

He peppered kisses over her chest and shoulder while his hand ran over every inch of skin he could reach with his limited movement. Once she caught her breath she snuggled into his chest. "It's embarrassing how easy you pull that out of me," she muttered. 

 

A deep chuckle rumbled under her cheek. "No more embarrassing than you doing the same to me. No one has ever made me let go as fast as you do," he said, and stole her breath with a hard kiss. 

 

His lips, tongue, and hands were suddenly everywhere. She couldn't decide which she loved more. Right that second, she thought it was his hands. She was turning into putty as one gripped and kneaded at her breasts, the other doing the same to her neck and hair. She didn’t need to feel his straining cock pressed between to know how much he wanted her; his hands said it all.

 

He gently pushed her away, both gasping for some much-needed air. “I may never let you out of this bed, Dany,” he panted, his eyes gone nearly black as they look up at her.

 

She gave him what she hoped was a sexy smile as she rubbed herself over him again. “I’m okay with that.” 

 

Those eyes rolled back in his head and his hands gripped her hips helping her slide over him several more times until he sucked in a hiss and let her go, pulling his left arm up to his chest.

 

She froze. “Shit, Jon. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

 

"You didn't," he grunted through gritted teeth, wincing. "It was me. Moved too much."

 

"I'll go get you something to eat so you can take a painkiller," she told him, rising off him gently. "I knew we did too much." 

 

His right hand gripped her thigh and she stilled, worried she'd hurt him more. "Stay here," he asked, "I don't want any meds."

 

"But Jon, you're in pain and you don't have to be," she argued.

 

"I know, but…" he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, his palm running up her thigh. When his eyes opened again her heart faltered at the turmoil she saw in them. He swallowed thickly and licked at his lips before blowing out another breath. 

 

She eased herself back over him, careful to keep her weight on her knees and not him. "Jon, what is it?"

 

"I quit taking the pills early this week," he said, voice low and raspy. "I've been dumping them in the nightstand drawer. I don't want to take them anymore, I can't."

 

She shook her head, thoroughly confused. " _What?_ Jon, why? I watched you swallow the one I gave you last night."

 

"I did, I took that one because I knew I probably needed it, but the rest…"

 

"The rest what, sweetie? Why aren't you taking them?"

 

"Because I– I used to… _Fuck_ ," he cursed under his breath and ran a hand over his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.

 

She was nervous, she had to admit, but she loved him, trusted him and the wonderful heart he had. And somehow she knew this had been coming, that there was _more_. Bracing herself over him she reached up and stroked his cheek. "Jon," she whispered and deep, dark, watery eyes met hers, nearly breaking her heart. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss to his lips. "Whatever it is, it's okay. I told you the other night I wanted to know all of you. Nothing's changed. You can tell me."

 

He nodded but closed his eyes again so she pressed a kiss to his forehead before laying down over him, careful to keep her weight off his bad shoulder. She knew she needed to give him the space he needed to get the words out.

 

He was quiet for a bit, his breathing unsettled, heartbeat skipping under her ear. She slipped her fingers into the thick curls at his neck and gently massaged his scalp in hopes of easing his anxiety.

 

"I had a drinking problem," he finally mumbled after a few minutes of silence, "for years." She heard the soft clicking of him swallowing, rose and fell with his deep shuddering breath, as she held her own. "I've only been sober for a year and a half. If I keep taking those pills I'm afraid I'll fall down a different hole. I can't risk it," he whispered, shaking his head, hands running up her back, pressing her to him, "especially not now."

 

She allowed the news settle within her, slowly letting the air flow from her lungs. Maybe she should've been surprised, but she wasn't. The things his family and friends had told her, what she knew of his past... Jon was a survivor just as much as she was. 

 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he croaked.

 

Needing to assuage his fears she rose up on her hands and knees and pressed a hand to his cheek. "It's… I get it, it's okay," she assured him.

 

He shook his head. "No, it's not. I did it again. Let us go too far before you knew all of me," his hand slipped into her hair, fingers gripping, his eyes growing a bit desperate, "but I swear Dany, there's nothing else. That's the worst of me."

 

The want to wrap him up and hold him forever was crushing. To never let him feel _less than_ again, to tell him he wasn't broken until he believed her. If only that would work. She leaned down and nuzzled her face against his. "Jon, it's alright."

 

He sucked in a shaky breath. "I don't feel like it is."

 

She pulled away and gently took his chin in her grasp. "Look at me," she ordered softly. His eyes opened and the sadness in them nearly overwhelmed her. She swallowed at the knot twisting tight in her throat and rubbed her thumb over his prickly jaw. "I'm telling you, _it is_ ," she told him slow and soft. "I love you and I'm not upset with you, about anything."

 

"You should be," he whispered.

 

"This is me you're talking to Jon. The kettle to your pot? I know what you went through, and you know what I did. Would you blame me if I had done the same?" 

 

"No, but I'm still sorry I didn't tell you. I should've when I told you the rest. Keeping things to myself is a bad habit I have that I need to break. I wasn't doing it to hurt you, I need you to know that."

 

\---

 

Shame and absolution warred within him. He was relieved to finally have that fucking demon out in the open, but the shame he felt for having it at all, knowing he was going to have to admit it to her, how weak he'd been to give into it over and over… 

 

His face was suddenly between her hands, her big blue eyes bringing him back. "Jon, I do. I know that," she told him, so soft and sure and strong. She was so strong. 

 

He reached up and brushed the golden wave of her hair behind her ear, trailed his fingertips over her velvet cheek, marveling at how he'd ever found her, the one person in the world who seemed made just for him, with a heart tender enough to love him, demons and all. "Thank you."

 

She kissed him, rested her forehead against his, and opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her, pressing a kiss to her lips. 

 

“That was the easy part, you okay with hearing the ugly stuff?” he asked. He needed it done, no matter how hard it would be.

 

"If you want to tell me."

 

He didn't, but… “I need you to know.”

 

She gave a nod and moved slowly down his body, kissed the scar near his heart where the third bullet had torn through him before laying down over him again. “I'm right here,” she whispered, her fingers finding their way back into his hair.

 

God, he didn't deserve her.

 

He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, his palm sliding up her back. His throat suddenly felt as tight and rusted as old gears, but he forced the words out anyway. "Things were… _rough_ after I moved out," he started. "I hadn't really thought of all I'd need to be on my own. Thankfully I had some money saved up from my job, enough to buy food and all the house stuff I needed. Toilet paper, sheets, shit like that. Ned was really upset, kept calling and coming by to check on me. Robb would do the same. Half the time he was pissed at me and only yelled, the other he was begging to move in. He actually did for awhile, but that was later."

 

"I know y'all fuss, but I'm so glad you have him,"  she murmured.

 

"Yeah, me too." Jon wanted to give into the distraction of Robb, tell her more stories, there were so many, but he couldn't, it would only prolong the torment and he wanted to fucking breathe again. Without the goddamn weight pressing down on him. He cleared his throat and forged on.

 

"I think it was about two weeks after that I met Tormund, my neighbor. He was big and loud, flaming red hair, mountain man beard. Scottish, thick accent. He sort of made himself my friend, figured out I was a bit lost and decided I needed him. A few days later he introduced me to his cousin, Ygritte, and she decided I needed her, too." 

 

Dany tensed over him, but quickly relaxed again, but not so quickly as to ease his worry.

 

"I can skip this part," he offered quietly. 

 

He got a shake of her head and another kiss to his chest. "Keep going."

 

With another deep breath, he did. "They invited me for dinner the next week, got me good and drunk on whiskey while they told stories. I woke up in the middle of the night, in her bed with her draped over me, both of us naked, and all of it came rushing back. She'd been brash, and very persistent. Picked on me that whole night, like they tell girls boys will do when they like them. Soon enough, she was all over me, whispering in my ear about all she wanted us to do. And I was drunk enough to give in."

 

She had gone stiff against him again, and he hated it. He knew how bad it sounded. Ygritte had definitely taken advantage of him, he knew that, but in the end he'd made the choice. Stupid one that it was.

 

"I managed to find my clothes and stumble into them. She woke up long enough to tell me I was a proper shag before falling back to sleep. I got myself home and proceeded to regret it all as I hugged the toilet. She let me be for a few days then started showing up at my door, bringing food and liquor," he rushed on, just wanting to get it out and over with. "Next thing I knew, it was a habit. I was letting her use me and vice versa. But when it was happening I didn’t think about being alone, how mom and dad were gone, Cat hating me, or those years in foster care that were always haunting me. We'd get shit faced, wind up in bed and my brain would shut the fuck off."

 

He sucked in a great breath and held it, waiting for Dany to get up and walk away, or at the very least give him a disgusted frown. But she did none of that. She stayed right where she was, fingers still playing in his hair, her breathing steady. He released the air in his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut and stinging, trying not to hold onto her too tight. 

 

"We only lasted a few months," he went on, voice rough as sandpaper. "She moved back home but I kept getting drunk nearly every night. It was the worst way in the world to deal with my shit, but it’s how I did. I'm ashamed of it now, but back then..."

 

Dany finally moved, gently sliding off him and over on her side. His heart was lodged in his throat until a soft hand came up and caressed his face, softer eyes staring into his. “Don’t do that to yourself, okay? If I can’t beat myself up, neither can you. They told us at Serenity there is no wrong way to grieve. The ways we choose may not be the best ways, but... you survived, Jon,” she told him. "And you're better now, right?"

 

"I am, but some days..." He took another deep breath. 

 

"Are worse than others," she said, finishing his sentence.

 

"Yeah," he agreed, his eyes falling closed. He carefully turned onto his side and faced her. 

 

"Do you go to meetings? Have a sponsor?" she asked once he was settled, her hand running down his chest, fingers tracing his scars. She wasn't looking at him, but he thought it was more for his sake than her own. Her way of making things easier for him. At least he hoped.

 

"I've been to a few meetings, but no. No sponsor. That keeping things to myself again," he admitted with a sigh, ashamed.

 

Her beautiful eyes met his and she gave him a pained smile as she took his hand in hers. "I get it, I don't like talking about things either. But this is me, hopefully I'm easier to talk to?"

 

He rolled closer to her, rested his forehead against hers and kissed her nose. "You are, I just wish I had better stuff to tell you," he breathed out.

 

Her hand slid over his neck, searching fingers going into his hair. She pulled away just enough so they could see each other. "I know, but what did we promise each other? No more pretending?" He nodded. "I wish like hell nothing bad had ever happened to you, but it made you into the man you are. And I love that man," she whispered. "So tell me. If there's more to tell."

 

"I'm afraid so."

 

"No, don't be afraid. I'm right here and I'm not letting go, remember? I promised."

 

Once again he wondered what he'd ever done to deserve her. Stepping in front of bullets just didn't seem enough. 

 

He lifted his bad arm up a bit and she took the hint, fitting herself against him, her thigh sliding over his hip. She ran her hand in soothing circles across his lower back, placed kisses to his collarbone. He soaked her in, her warmth, her sweet scent, soft skin. The comfort she was so readily giving.

 

"I hid it for a long time, probably a good year before anyone really noticed, and even then they weren't sure," mumbled into her hair. "I didn't go to parties or bars, I just drank alone at home. But it wasn't long before it was fucking up everything. My grades were shit, I was on the verge of losing my scholarships, Dad and Robb were always on my back. I kept showing up to family stuff buzzed. I tried to stop, several times, it never lasted. Dad begged me to get help for a while, then dragged me to a doctor friend of his who put me on antidepressants."

 

"Those are no fun," she muttered.

 

He chuffed, but pulled her tighter against him, pressing his lips to her forehead. He couldn't imagine all the ones she'd probably taken over the last several years. "You ain't wrong," he whispered. "I had to stop drinking then, and it was hard as fuck. I had Robb throw out every bottle in the house. He even took my keys for a while to curb the temptation of going and getting more. I paced the floors, smoked like a damn freight train, ran the sidewalks until I almost collapsed, but I did it. I couldn't stand being a disappointment to Ned, not after all he'd done for me. I made it through graduation, but I hated the way the pills made me feel. When I started teaching I quit taking them and managed to stay sober for awhile until I went out with some coworkers one night after finals were over for all of us. I'd been sober almost nine months, thought a couple of drinks wouldn't hurt. It was a mistake. One of the other professors, Val cozied up to me, and it was Ygritte all over again. I fell right back into it. Told myself I was controlling it, we only got together once a week or so and I didn't have more than one or two drinks a night. But I was bullshitting myself."

 

She pulled away and looked up at him, a sad understanding heavy in her eyes that somehow broke his heart and healed it some too. "That's easy to do. We pretend enough it becomes our truth. But Jon, you weren't the first to cope that way, and you won't be the last. Tyrion, my therapist?" He nodded, remembering the name. "He told me that sex, drugs, alcohol… They're the most common ways people deal with loss and trauma. Sometimes we need crutches to get through the worst, we just can't let ourselves use them too long and forget we have two good feet to stand on."

 

He blew out a shaky breath. "Yeah, but I did forget. I went off the deep end. For several reasons. Realizing I had a huge fucking problem, shit at work, I fucked up and called the boys one night after four too many. Knowing I hadn't dealt with my past and had fallen into the same trap with Val that I had with Ygritte. School let out for a couple weeks the next day, so I told Val we were done before going home. Then took advantage of being alone. I raided my _hidden_ stash and drank myself into oblivion for days. I think I was trying to drink myself to death, but at the same time I didn't want to, I just wanted the fucking thoughts to stop," he whispered.

 

"I know," she said, voice soft and muffled, her face buried in his chest. He eased his grip on her, only then realizing he'd clutched her close as he'd been talking. She leaned back again, eyes shining and bright. Her fingertips ran over his mouth, lingering at one corner. "The day we met, that's all I wanted. For it all just to stop. I was going to the liquor store, but wound up finding you instead."

 

He looked down at the smooth slope of her shoulder, following it with his eyes as he traced a finger over her skin. “It’s not the same, is it? With me?” The words were out before he could stop them, leaving him feeling sick and weak, full of guilt all over again. He wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out. "Forget I asked that, please," he croaked.

 

Her hand combed through his hair and down his face to his chin and pulled it up so he’d look at her. It took him a second to build the courage, but his eyes found their way to hers. “I promise it’s not like that for me, Jon. I love you. It wasn’t something I set out to do, I didn’t even think my heart was capable of loving someone again, but then you showed up and my entire world was flipped on its head. For the better,” she tried to assure him. "You are _not_ my crutch… You're the other half of my heart."

 

He could only give her a small watery smile, too twisted up to do more. 

 

“I’ve got a list I want to tell you about, okay?” He nodded. “It’s my list for you.” She smirked and reached down and ran her hand over his ass. “This is number five,” she told him giving it a firm squeeze. It made him smile a bit, but then she moved her hand over his hip and further down between them until her palm settled over his cock. “And this is number four.” She couldn’t help but smile when it jumped at her touch and he took a deep swallow. “Those parts of you are very nice but something else is my favorite.”

 

“What?” he whispered, finally finding his voice.

 

She gently pushed him onto his back and straddled him again, staying upright on her knees. “Number three on the list are your arms and hands,” she told him, picking up his right hand and bringing it to her lips, kissing his palm, while lightly stroking her fingers up and down his arm.

 

“Why?” he asked, perplexed.

 

“Because they hold me when I’m sad, tickle me so I’ll laugh, touch me like they've always known me.” Her smile was soft as she nipped the pads of his fingertips with her teeth. “When these gentle hands touch me and your strong arms wrap around me, I feel safe, protected, never afraid or alone. My whole world can feel like it’s falling apart, but when I lay myself in your arms it gets quiet and I know that everything’s going to be alright. When they hold me it’s like a piece of me that’s been missing isn’t missing anymore. I feel whole again,” she whispered.

 

He swallowed at the lump growing in his throat as she dropped onto her hands over him then leaned down and gently kissed each of his eyebrows, his eyelids as he closed them. “Those are number two,” she whispered staring down at him when he looked back up at her. “I think I fell in love with you the first time they met mine. I’d never seen anything more beautiful or alive as your eyes were that day. I melt every time they look at me because they never fail to show me how you feel. It’s like your heart is so big it spills out of them. Sometimes they look at me shining with so much love it breaks my heart. Other times I can feel your touch before your fingers ever reach me with one heated look from them. They never fail to take my breath away. You could never speak another word and I would still know you loved me, wanted me, just by your beautiful eyes,” she told him with a kiss to the corner of each.

 

He tried to speak but she placed a finger over his lips. “Shhh, let me finish,” she whispered giving his nose a quick peck. “This last one is the most important one.” Leaning down, she pressed a lingering kiss over his heart. “This is my favorite part of you. Your big, sweet, loving, tender, selfless heart,” she whispered against his skin then laid down with her ear pressed over it. 

 

His arms immediately wrapped around her and he held her close as he kissed the top of her head, swallowing again, squeezing his eyes shut against the burning.

 

“It chose to protect me when it didn’t even know me. It has fought for me, picked me up every time I’ve fallen down, smiled at me when I couldn’t," she went on, breathless and strained. "Been patient with me, and decided to love me despite the fact I was broken and at my weakest. It has sewn me back together, filled my cracks with the love it has for me and made me whole when I feared I never would be again. It whispers and calls to mine, calming it like no other. It shines a light on my darkness, taking away my fears and making me brave,” she whispered and gave a sniff. He could feel her tears sliding down his side. He held her tighter, rubbing his hands over her back. “It should feel heavier in your chest these days, because it’s home to mine now too.”

 

“Dany,” he breathed out, gently pulling at her so she'd look up at him. He couldn't take anymore. Her eyes were liquid pools of blue flame when they locked onto his. He swore he could feel her inside his soul as she stared at him. Her tears fell over his face and mixed with his own as he slipped his hands into her hair and pulled her lips to his. It was their first kiss times a thousand, so full of love and tenderness his heart threatened to break open. 

 

“I love you,” he panted, kissing his way across her face so they could catch their breath. “I love you. I love you so fucking much,” he chanted over and over.

 

She choked back a gasp as he turned them onto their sides then gently brushed her hair from her face. “I.. I…love–"

 

“Shhhhhh, I know. I know, Hummingbird, I know,” he whispered continuing to place feather light kisses over her face, drinking her tears.

 

He managed to catch her lips the next time they brushed across his and kissed her with every ounce of love he felt for her. It could've been minutes or even hours but they lost themselves in each other. It wasn't the fast and frenzied burning fever of their first time, but slow and reverent, almost devastating in its affection.

 

Unable to wait any longer, he slid his hand gently down her back and over her ass, pulling her leg up and over his hip and buried his cock deep inside of her, filling her in one smooth stroke.

 

Her back arched, hips curling to take him even deeper. “Jon,” she moaned, her head thrown back, eyes rolling from the pleasure.

 

“Open your eyes, beautiful. Look at me,” he softly demanded. He needed to see her. Needed all of her with him.

 

She obeyed, eyes locking with his as their hips continued to slowly roll and thrust against each other. The blazing blue held nothing but love, want and need, that he knew equaled his own. All of it seared on his heart, swelling it, driving it to beat harder against its bony cage, begging to be closer to her. She felt amazing around him, but it wasn’t about chasing their releases, it was about the love they felt for each other. He'd never known anything like it. The way it washed over him, threatened to drown him, yet he only wanted more. Everything inside of him wanted more of her, wanted her closer. 

 

Their need built slowly in waves of writhing, tangled limbs, warm skin, shuddering breaths, and pounding hearts until they both shattered in each other’s arms.

 

It took several minutes before the euphoria ebbed enough for them to move or speak again and even then, it was only lazy fingers drifting over skin, lips feather soft, and loving whispers exchanged.

 

Her stomach suddenly growled loudly and Jon’s head and eyebrows shot up. He grinned at her. “I made you hungry, we best feed you so you’ll have plenty of energy for later,” he teased and nibbled on her neck making her squeal, continuing to until she went into a fit of giggles.

 

Then she froze. “Jon! Wait, wait, wait!" she begged, "I hear something.”

 

“You’re just trying to distract me,” he growled but his hand stalled above her when a ringing pealed through the house. Ghost let out a whine just outside the door. “Is that the doorbell? Is someone supposed to be here?” he asked.

 

Her eyes went wide. “Oh _shit_ , Jon! That’s gotta be your PT guy. We totally forgot you have therapy today.” She carefully untangled herself from him and scrambled out of the bed before running to the dresser, digging him out some clothes he guessed. Just as he swung his feet to the floor, she tossed him a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “Here, you get dressed while I go answer the door.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond because the dude outside was trying to kill her doorbell. She ran out of the room.

 

“HUMMINGBIRD!” 

 

She spun around as if he'd scared her half to death. “What!? What’s wrong!?”

 

He smirked but drew his eyebrows down into a deep frown as he pointed at her. “ _Clothes_. You better be putting on some clothes, because I’m not too keen on Mr. Impatient out there getting a free peep show of my girl.”

 

Her hands flew to her face, already a bright pink. “Oh my God! I almost answered the door naked! And it’s all your fault because you… you…you," she made a deep snarling noise as she scowled at him, "I can’t think straight after you turn my brain to mush and with you sitting there looking like _that_ ,” she blurted, waving her hands wildly at his still very naked body.

 

His laughter filled the room as she stomped around looking for something to put on. She settled for one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers, shoving her body into them before heading toward the door again.

 

But, once more, Jon stopped her, grabbing her hand as she walked past him and pulling her between his thighs.

 

“Jon,” she whined, “that guy is gonna beat down the door if I don’t hurry.”

 

“Kiss me first,” he insisted, puckering his lips up at her..

 

All the tension seemed to leave her body and she leaned down and gave him a big smooch. “Mmm, I love you,” she hummed.

 

He smiled brilliantly. “I love you too, now go answer the door,” he said, turning her around and smacking her soundly on the ass.

 

“Watch it mister! I will get you back for that,” she fussed, trying to look stern, but failed miserably. She was way too flustered and giggly.

 

_What the fuck had he ever done to deserve her?_

 

He didn't have an answer but he was going to do everything possible to be the man that did.

  
  
  


 

 


	18. The Heavens Open Every Time She Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany meet his new physical therapist, thoroughly enjoy a haircut and shower, then another knock comes to their door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya. I think most of you know why this took so long so I won't bore you with my shitastic life. 
> 
> Big shout-out to my lovely Meg! She's pivotal to helping me keep this fic in shape. Love her to the moon and back ❤️
> 
> !!!!WARNING!!!! This chapter is full of fluff, but it also ends in some SERIOUS angst and a hella cliffy... so please.... BRACE. *runs away and hides* 
> 
> But know I love you, and these precious beans. I PROMISE it will all be okay!!!! HEA is coming.

  
  
  


 

I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles

And the heavens open every time she smiles

And when I come to her that's where I belong

Yet I'm running to her like a river's song

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She's got a fine sense of humor 

when I'm feeling low down

Yeah when I come to her when the sun goes down

Take away my trouble, take away my grief

Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

Yes I need her in the daytime (I need her)

Yes I need her in the night (I need her)

Yes I want to throw my arms around her (I need her)

Kiss and hug her, kiss and hug her tight

Yeah when I'm returning from so far away

She gives me some sweet lovin' brighten up my day

Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me whole

Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

 

Crazy Love - Van Morrison

  
  
  


He heard Dany's muffled voice talking with the deeper tone of a man's as he struggled into his shorts. But the sing-song cadence of hers kept his worry down. It had to be the PT guy. The front door closed not long after and soon enough the soft padding of her bare feet came down the hall, Ghost's tapping nails too.

 

"PT guy?" he asked when she walked in as he tried and failed to get into his shirt. 

 

"Yep, PT guy," she chirped back, rescuing him from his uncooperative clothing and getting him dressed with ease, even with Ghost jumping on the bed and begging for attention. They both gave him thorough good morning rubs until he calmed down and went back to visit their new guest. Dany stepped up between his thighs, her smile sweet as she ran her hands over his hair. No doubt it was a mess. "His name's Tristan, seems really nice. I left him in the living room."

 

He sucked in a deep breath and pushed it out before holding his hand up to her. "Wish me luck."

 

"You don't need luck. You've got this," she said, stepping back and taking his hand before pulling him up. "See, easy peasy." He smirked and rolled his eyes at her. "I'm gonna clean up a bit and then I'll be right out," she told him, "but holler if y'all need me."

 

"Kay." He kissed her forehead and hobbled out to meet Tristan, nerves edgy, but eager too. 

 

He had a feeling he was going to have a love/hate relationship with PT. While he wanted to speed up his recovery, he wasn't looking forward to the pain the therapy would put him through to achieve that.

 

Tristan was standing in the living room filling out paperwork on his clipboard when Jon walked in. Ghost wasn't around, but the cool breeze and birdsong coming in from the back porch let him know Dany had left the door open for him to do his business. He turned back to Tristan and, for some reason, immediately started sizing the guy up, even though he wasn't one to normally do that.

 

He was tall fucker, no doubt he had Jon by at least a good eight or nine inches. Not that most guys didn't. Thankfully he'd gotten over that particular hang up years ago. Despite his lack of height, he could put on muscle with ease thanks to his stocky build, the tall guys had to work twice as hard for it. He bet Tristan was one of them. He was lean, almost skinny, not that Jon was a roid head or anything, but still. 

 

His hair was dusty blond, and even though Jon couldn't see his eyes at the moment, he'd guess blue. Basically his opposite. Which was fine with him. Dany liked his darker features. She'd just told him not thirty minutes before his eyes were her second favorite thing about him. And he knew she loved his hair, she couldn't keep her hands out of it. Tristan was nearly sporting a buzz cut his was so short. 

 

He doubted he had anything to worry about, but he'd watch him closely regardless.

 

Jon cleared his throat and Tristan came to life, finally realizing he was in the room. “Oh hey! There you are. I’m Tristan. It’s nice to meet you, Jon.”

 

_ Strong handshake. Voice a bit goofy and over the top. Eyes definitely blue, but a dull blue. He'd hold off on giving him a point for being friendly. First impressions weren't everything. _

 

“Nice to meet you too, I think. I’ll tell you for sure after I see what kind of torture you have planned for me,” he joked.

 

Tristan laughed and threw his clipboard back into his bag. “I’ll take it easy on you today. I just want to see where you’re at and then Wednesday we can really get to work. Sound like a plan?”

 

“Yep, I wanna be back to normal ASAP, so bring it on.”

 

He gave a big smile, teeth glistening white and perfectly straight. For some stupid reason it had Jon running his tongue over his own. “My kinda patient," Tristan said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them vigorously. He was way too eager by Jon's estimation. "Walk back and forth a time or two with the crutch and then without and let me see how your range of motion is. Take it easy though," he warned, giving a scowl, "we’re not trying for any awards today.”

 

Jon made three turns around the living room. With the crutch it wasn’t so bad, but without hurt like a bitch. A good bit worse than the day before. He couldn’t help but grin knowing why that was.

 

“Bet it’s nice to be able to move around huh?” Tristan asked, smiling, apparently he'd noticed Jon's.

 

_ If you only knew, buddy. _

 

“Yeah, much better than how I’ve been the last few weeks,” he answered. No way in hell would he be telling him just how much better it was.

 

Tristan grabbed his clipboard again and jotted down a few notes before throwing it back on his bag. “All right, you’re not doing half bad considering. You’re really stiff, but that’s completely normal." He waved him toward the couch. "Take a seat, everything else we can do with you sitting down.”

 

Jon lowered himself down and Tristan squatted next to him once he was settled, then pointed at his arm. "We won't unwrap it, but let’s see how your arm’s doing. Do a couple of curls for me.” Jon did those with no problem. “Good." He held out a clenched fist towards him. "Now, I want you to push down on my fist and then push it up. Try not to use your bi’s and tri’s too much,” he coached. “Like I said before though, no heroics.”

 

Jon did as he said. It wasn't easy,  _ and _ it hurt. He couldn’t believe how weak his arm had gotten in just a few weeks. 

 

Tristan noted his disappointment, grabbing his good shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Hey, no worries, man. You got shot and you’ve hardly used it in three weeks. It’s not just the bone healing but your muscles too, it’s gonna take some time."

 

He knew he was right, but it still pissed him off. He was fucking grateful to be alive, but  _ damn _ he wanted his body back. He didn't think he'd ever take it for granted again once he did.

 

"I’ll give you a few gentle exercises to do over the next month to keep it moving and once your shoulder blade is completely healed you can go back to the heavy weights. It’ll be back to normal in no time," Tristan went on with his pep talk as he shifted over to kneel in front of him. "I’m gonna stretch your leg, knee, and ankle now. It’s not gonna feel good, but we need to see how much work we have to do. Let me know the second it’s too much, alright?”

 

“Yep. Go for it,” he told him, adding more gusto to his words than he felt.

 

Taking his leg in his hands, one under his ankle and the other just below the knee, Tristan lifted it up as far as Jon's muscles and ligaments would let him before easing it down to a more comfortable level.

 

It was stiff for sure, but there really wasn’t any pain.

 

He shifted the hand he had on his ankle to the bottom of his foot and put the other above the knee on his thigh and slowly pressed his knee towards his chest.

 

_ Yeah, that didn't feel so good. _

 

“Where’d you feel that?” he asked, noting Jon's wince.

 

“Umm, mostly my ankle and knee. They’re really stiff. But it wasn’t too bad,” he said, playing it off.

 

“Alright, push against my hand until your leg is straight,” he told him, squeezing his foot as he gently pressed against it.

 

Jon pressed back until he got it straightened, but  _ fucking hell _ did it hurt.

 

Tristan gave a grimace of sympathy and a nod. “That one will probably be your toughest to overcome. This type of movement puts more pressure on your bones than walking does. You’ll hate my guts the first time I make you do squats,” he said, with a sly smirk, those bright white teeth gleaming again.

 

_ Already might, asshole. Why did he have to be so fucking smiley? _

 

“I want you to flex your foot forward then backwards. Go slow and easy,” he instructed, still holding his leg.

 

_ Shit, that hurt. _

 

He didn’t know which way was worse. Both made it feel like his ankle was going to explode _. _

 

Dany was suddenly by his side and pried his hand off the armrest, holding it in hers. “Is it really necessary to make it so painful for him?” she asked, brushing his hair off his forehead gently.

 

He forgot about the pain the moment he saw her. She was wearing what must've been one of the new outfits she'd gotten the day before. A pair of tight black shorts and a baby blue top that was all soft and flowy. She looked amazing. Her hair was falling in waves around her beautiful face and she had on a tiny bit of lip gloss and mascara, just like the day he'd met her. The glow she’d had since that morning was still there, along with a blush of pink that was blooming in her cheeks as he stared at her. She was absolutely breathtaking. 

 

“I’m afraid so, Dany. No pain, no gain they say,” Tristan said, brightly, breaking them out of their love bubble. His smirk had turned into a hundred-watt smile as he looked up at Dany.

 

_ Yep, fucking hated him. _

 

The way her name sounded coming out of his mouth made Jon want to deck him. Not to mention how he was looking at her.

 

_ Keep it up, asshole, keep it up. _

 

“Therapy isn’t a walk in the park. It’s gonna take a lot of work to get this leg back to normal and pain free,” he went on, rolling Jon's ankle around, none too gently, happy, smiling eyes still firmly on Dany.

 

Jon jerked his foot against his hold, ignoring the shock of pain it sent up his leg, trying to wake him up from his Dany stupor. He got it, she was gorgeous, but she was his and no one else's.

 

_ Fuck. When the hell had he turned into a neanderthal?  _

 

Tristan's smile faltered a bit when he finally peeled his eyes off her and looked at him. Jon had no doubt his anger was evident. He was doing nothing to hide it. Tristan did his best to recover, plastering a fake smile on his face. “You’re doing great, man. Really,” he sputtered.

 

Jon continued to glare at him. He'd just blamed it on the pain.

 

Dany turned his scowling face up toward her worried one. Seeing those blues eyes and the love they held calmed him a bit.

 

“You okay? I’m sure he’ll let you take a break if you need it.”

 

_ Nope. No way in hell was he letting asshole think he was a wimp.  _

 

He gave a shake of his head. “I’m good, Bird. This is nothing compared to getting shot.” He smiled at her and pulled her down for a quick kiss. She didn’t hesitate to return it.

 

_ Take that, buddy _ .

 

“I’m gonna go fix you breakfast then, if you’re good without me,” she said, reaching up to smooth his hair down with a grin. 

 

He kissed her other hand. “I’m good. I promise,” he  assured her. “And breakfast sounds fantastic. I need to replenish some of my energy,” he teased with a wink.

 

She rolled her eyes and did her best not to smile too much before leaning over and kissing his cheek. “I’m looking forward to depleting it again,” she whispered in his ear before she stood up and walked away.

 

He turned and watched her sweet little ass sway, being so lovingly caressed in those shorts. He called out to her just before she got to the kitchen. “Hey, Bird?”

 

She stopped, turning back to look at him. “Yeah?”

 

“I love you.”

 

He could see the blush rising on her cheeks from across the room, and of course her brilliant smile. “I love you too,” she said, then blew him a kiss before disappearing.

 

He looked back at Tristan with a big smile. His was barely hanging on.

 

He shook his head at Jon. “You’re one lucky bastard."

 

"Yeah, that I am," he agreed with a contented sigh. "How soon before you can get me mobile enough to dance?” 

 

Tristan gave him a dubious look. “Let me guess? You need to dance at the wedding?”

 

“We'll do that soon, hopefully, but no. She was never able to go to prom, so I’m going to put one together for her. The works. But none of that will matter if I can’t dance with her most of the night.”

 

Nodding and clearly impressed, Tristan smiled. “Nice man, she’ll love that. Any woman would." His face twisted in concentration. "I’d say another month at least before you can be on it for several hours straight without it killing you. You’ll need to block out three or four days after to get over it too.”

 

"Let's get started then, the sooner the better."

 

—

 

Tristan stayed another thirty minutes or so, then finally packed up and left. If Jon could've moved around well enough he would’ve shoved his smiling ass out the door much sooner. Dany had come back with his breakfast and the shit had only had eyes for her, asking her question after question, his blazing smile never faltering. She smiled back at him, but it was easy to tell she was just being polite. Jon could see the tension in her–the tightness around her eyes, her fidgeting hands and bouncing knee. He did all he could short of decking him to cut the conversation off and encourage him to leave.

 

He'd be coming three times a week for the next couple of months too.

 

_ Just no. Hell, no. _

 

Dany could take him to his office and drop him off. Or he could get Robb to come get him. Either way,  _ Smiley Ass _ was not coming back to flirt and make her uncomfortable.

 

“Hey, you. What’s got you all scowly?” she asked, sitting down on the couch beside him. All the tension had left her, her smile easy, movements loose and smooth as she curled up beside him, fingers going straight to his hair.

 

“Hey. Where’d you come from?” he shot back, dodging her question with one of his own, adding his best smile as another distraction. It was real though, he couldn’t help but smile when she was looking so light and free.

 

She leaned over and kissed his lips when he puckered them up towards her. “I just finished cleaning the kitchen and putting supper in the crockpot. How does roast and potatoes sound?”

 

“Delicious. Now come here. We were rudely interrupted earlier. I wasn’t finished with you yet,” he growled playfully and tried to grab at her.

 

She squealed but easily avoided his grasp.

 

He pouted, giving her his best sad face, lip out and all.

 

“Awwww, you poor thing," she cooed dramatically and climbed onto his lap, settling herself firmly over his growing erection. He had a feeling he was going to be sporting a permanent boner for the foreseeable future. It'd been bad enough before, now that he knew… "I do believe I may have created a monster."

 

“You have and I'm starving,” he growled again before nibbling on her neck and rubbing his scruff over her sensitive skin, hands taking a firm grip of her ass, fingers digging in to tickle her.

 

Her laughter filled the room as she squirmed over him. “Wait! Stop!” she begged, already breathless.

 

He gave into her pleas, laying his head back against the couch and enjoying the view. She was so fucking beautiful.

 

She ran her hands over his beard, her smile softening. “You need a shave and a haircut,” she said, reaching up and fluffing his hair with her fingers. “Would you let me do it?”

 

He pulled a face, thrown off a bit by the question, clean-cut  _ Smiley Ass _ all he could think of and how he looked nothing like him. "Umm, I guess you can give me a trim," he answered.

 

"You don't sound so sure about that. Don't trust me?"

 

"No, I do, but uh… " He scratched at his beard, placing a protective hand between it and her. "I'm gonna have to say no to the shave." 

 

Her pretty head tilted, brow furrowed. "Why?"

 

"You don't like my beard?" he was quick to ask, immediately hating the defensive edge in his voice. 

 

She gave him a doting smile and smoothed her hands down his cheeks. "I love your beard, I just don't know what you look like without one," she said, and squished his face. "You might be even prettier."

 

He let his head fall back and snorted,  _ loud _ . "Trust me, I am not," he assured her, and looked back up. "When I shave I look like a depressed child of twelve."

 

She rolled her eyes and gave a snort of her own. "I think you're being a bit dramatic."

 

"No, I’m not," he said with a vehement shake of his head. “I’ll have to see if Robb can dig up some pictures from highschool to prove it to you. I've had a beard since freshman year of college, because in high school… I was one ugly fucker."

 

She scowled ferociously and pushed at his chest. “ _ Jon Snow! _ You were not!” 

 

He laughed at her for a good long while. “I’m sure teenage me would love you for defending him," he chuckled, "but since you never saw me…" He snarled as if he'd smelled something putrid and shook his head. "You wouldn't say that if you had. I was ugly, Dany. Believe me."

 

Her scowl still firmly in place she gave an aggravated huff. “There’s no way anyone as gorgeous as you could have ever been ugly.”

 

He gathered her close and kissed her, laughing at her some more. “Thank you, but seriously, I was a foot shorter than any other guy in the whole school. Pale as a fucking ghost. My nose was huge," he held his hand over his face in an open claw and waved it around, "took up my whole face," he sighed. "I had to wear glasses too. They were not attractive, big ugly dark frames. My hair was short, no beard. Couldn't even grow one. I looked like a fucking baby. I was a nerd. An absolute nerd," he declared. "They called me Shorts McBroody, Dany."

 

She did her best to stifle a giggle while reaching up to soothe him, stroking her fingers through his hair. “I'm sorry. Tell me who they were and I’ll go kick their asses. I still need proof, but I bet they all lost their eyeballs when you walked into your class reunion.”

 

He gave her a mischievous smirk and winked. “I picked up eyeballs and chins all night.” 

 

Her giggle finally escaped then and she leaned close and kissed him a few times. “And I bet everyone else was old and ugly, weren’t they?”

 

“Every single one of them,” he laughed against her lips which quickly turned into a heated kiss, hips grinding, hands and mouths greedy. “Do you have any idea how happy you make me?” he breathed out once they came up for air, chest burning and full to bursting.

 

Her bottom lip vanished between her teeth, eyes doing a perfect imitation of the cutest puppy on earth just before he was engulfed by her soft, warm body as she hugged him. “Probably as happy as I am because of you,” she whispered.

 

—

 

They wound up cuddling on the couch so long they fell asleep, worn out from their busy morning. Once they woke up they had a late lunch and folded some laundry while watching another episode of  _ LOST _ . Then she convinced him to let her cut his hair and trim his beard.

 

But only because he  _ was _ getting a bit scruffy looking. He'd been due when he met her. And now, nearly three months without a trip to the barber and he was approaching shipwrecked pirate status. 

 

After putting one of the kitchen chairs out on the back porch for him to sit on she helped him get settled– taking his shirt off, unwrapping his arm, and putting a towel around his neck. She disappeared back into the house and a minute later Van Morrison’s voice began to float out through the open doors and windows. He was singing about coming home and rocking gypsy souls. Jon closed his eyes with a smile and just enjoyed the peace of the moment. The afternoon air was pleasantly cool for late April, the breeze coming in off the bay constant, briney and brisk. He was happy and so was she. Life was pretty good. The fucking best it'd ever been actually.

 

He heard her setting things down on the table behind him, then her fingers were sliding around his neck and across his jaw. He opened his eyes to find her smiling at him. Her flowy shirt had been replaced with a tight little tank top. He would no doubt get a few peeks of her smooth stomach every time she lifted her arms up, but only if he could tear his eyes away from her tits. She'd taken her bra off and her nipples were straining against the thin fabric covering them. 

 

“Hair or beard first?” she inquired softly, breaking through his shameful thoughts of leaning forward and taking one into his mouth.

 

He swallowed and licked his lips. “You pick.”

 

She gave him a knowing smirk as she moved behind him, fingers trailing teasingly back around his neck. Water gently splashed and dripped just before he felt it doing the same over his head, warm and wet. Her fingers worked it through his thick curls and into his scalp. Twice more and she had it wet enough to easily run a comb through and him so relaxed it was like she slipped him a sedative.

 

He couldn't help but think back to the first time she'd washed his hair in the shower. Thankfully he was much less knotted up with tension and could enjoy it. 

 

"Good grief," she snorted, "It's down to your shoulder blades when it's straight."

 

He gave a grunt, not bothering to open his eyes. "Yeah, guess I did need a trim."

 

"How short you want to go? This good?" she asked, and he felt the comb press across his lower neck. 

 

"Good enough for me."

 

She got straight to work, the scissors snipping and snapping each time she gathered his hair between her fingers. It certainly felt like she knew what she was doing.

 

_ His barber may be short one customer soon.  _

 

He almost screwed up and asked her how she knew how, but thank all that was holy he stopped himself. It really didn’t take more than one guess that it was her husband's hair she cut.

 

She was humming and quietly singing along with Van as she worked, her voice seductively smooth. If she hadn’t been so engrossed in her work he would've been kissing her senseless right then, but he refrained, just enjoying the new experience for what it was– the most erotic haircut he'd ever had.

 

Her breasts kept brushing against his arms, nipples hard as they grazed across his skin. Every time her fingers ran over his scalp he somehow felt it in his cock, and her warm breath flowing into his ears as she cut the hair over them was enough to make him squirm. Being so close to her sexy body, yet not being able to touch her was killing him in the best way. She seemed oblivious to how much she was teasing him though, just smiling sweetly when their eyes met every few minutes.

 

She finished way sooner than he wanted her to, but moved right onto trimming his beard, eyes narrowed, plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she concentrated, movements slow and careful.

 

_ God, he loved her. _

 

That done she produced an almost hot towel from somewhere and held it lovingly to his neck for several long moments as they stared at each other while Van sang about the  _ "heavens opening every time she smiles _ ." Jon couldn’t agree with him more.

 

She traded the towel for some shaving cream and a razor and he cut her look. "Stop scowling at me," she fussed playfully. "I'm just gonna shave your neck." 

 

The razor got trapped between her teeth while she smoothed the cream over his skin. He probably should've been nervous when she tilted his head back and placed the razor against his throat, but she shaved her legs every day, he was sure she knew how to work one. She slid it gently up his neck in one smooth stroke, quiet and absorbed with her task, swishing it in the water a bit then bringing it back up for another. He stayed as still as he could for her, knowing she’d be upset if he got cut. Several long, sexually charged minutes later, she was done. The towel got warmed back up and she wiped off all extra shaving cream.

 

She smiled, running her hands over his freshly shaved skin. “All done. Smooth as a baby’s butt,” she teased, her nose wrinkled.

 

He grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her close until her lips were almost against his, breathing in her little gasp. “That was the sexiest, most erotic barber trip of my life,” he whispered, and kissed her hard, releasing some of his pent-up arousal. She moaned, giving it right back and stirring him up even more. 

 

She pulled away too soon, nipping at his lips. "Wanna go shower with me, handsome? Wash off all the hair and sticky?"

 

Turning down a wet soapy Dany– that he could actually touch this time– was out of the question. "Sounds fucking perfect."

 

She lead him into the shower, undressing him as they went, and got him settled on the bench with the water streaming down his back. He sat back and watched as she moved to stand just out of his reach and slowly pulled her shirt off– teasingly, with swaying hips, sparkling eyes and a sly smile– before peeling off her shorts and panties.

 

He soaked in the sight of her once she was naked, trailing his hungry gaze from the top of her head down to her pink painted toes. A bright blush rose to her cheeks, but she stood still and let him have his fill of her.

 

"You are so fucking gorgeous," he breathed out raspy and rough. "It should be against the law for you to wear clothes. Turn around and let me see that perfect ass. I haven't gotten a good look at it yet. I need to know if it's as award winning as mine is," he teased with a wink.

 

She giggled and spun around, sticking it out before wiggling it at him.

 

_ Fuck _ , she was gonna be the death of him yet. The want to bury his cock in her wet heat and fuck her from behind was so damn bad his balls ached. Her ass would make the perfect handles, if only he could stand up long enough.

 

"Well, sir, what's the verdict?" she purred, breaking him out of his fantasy.

 

When he looked up, her head was peeking over her shoulder, fuck me eyes boring into his. 

 

_ Fuck _ , now he had a new fantasy playing in his head.

 

Her in high heels bent over his desk thanking him for each lick he gave to that perfect ass.  _ 'Thank you, Sir. Please may I have another?' _

 

_ Yes, you fucking may. _

 

"It's perfection, just like every other inch of you. Now come here before I break the rules and come get you," he growled playfully at her.

 

She spun around and shook her finger at him. "No, sir! You're gonna stay right there and be a good boy," she scolded, smiling as she walked closer.

 

He reached out and pulled her between his thighs putting her beautiful tits right in front of his face and began kissing his way from one to the next. "You keep calling me Sir and I won't be held responsible for my actions," he whispered and latched onto her right nipple, sucking it gently while pinching and twisting the other one between his fingers. 

 

She let out a gasping whimper that echoed off the tiles walls and made his cock twitch. "That sounds nice," she breathed out.

 

He chuckled around her nipple but quickly got back to work– licking, sucking, and pinching to his heart's content.

 

He could feast on them for days.

 

Her fingers ran through his hair as she moaned above him, and he could feel her thighs squirming between his. She was already close from just a few minutes of his undivided attention and it drove him crazy. Not in his wildest dreams had he imagined her so passionate and responsive, but  _ fuck _ was he pleased to reap the rewards.

 

Assuming she was probably sore from all the other attention he'd paid her cunt recently he decided to let it rest for awhile and concentrate on her clit instead. He wanted to bury his face between her thighs again, feast on her until she screamed and shattered for him, but unfortunately that wasn't a safe option in the shower. Soon though. He'd get creative again and find a way. But for now he stretched out his left leg and tugged on her right one. "Put your leg over mine, beautiful."

 

She responded dreamily, slowly straddling it and giving him more room to work. Even with the upper part of his arm strapped to his side he could easily reach her without hurting himself. Which left his right hand free to play with her soft tits.

 

He placed his left hand over her pelvis and slowly slid his thumb from her entrance up to her clit– bringing her slick juices with it– and gently massaged them into the swollen bud.

 

She hummed and dropped her head back. "That feels so good," she breathed out, gripping him tighter in her hands.

 

He couldn't help but notice that no matter how lost she got in her passionate emotions she hadn't once touched his bad shoulder, leg, or the scar on his head. It wasn't because she didn't want to stop them either– even though he knew she didn't– it was all about not hurting him.

 

Her tender heart couldn't stand the thought of him being in pain, and knowing that only added to the love he had for her.

 

Taking his time, he lightly and gently began to rub, circle, and stroke her sensitive clit– never leaving her nipples wanting. He relished in her responsive body, learning her tells– every moan and gasp noted and what brought them to the surface– as he built her orgasm to just the right height then finally let her fall over the edge. She cried out quietly, her whole body shivering and shuddering against him.

 

"So beautiful," he murmured against her breast. And she was. Watching her come, the bliss taking over her beautiful face, knowing he'd brought her there… He'd found his new drug, and was ready and willing to give himself over to the addiction. He held her to him, stroking her through the aftershocks until she sank down onto his thigh and rested her forehead against his.

 

She stayed there panting until finally closing the distance between their lips and kissing him softly. "You make everyone better than the last. The next one may kill me," she whispered.

 

He chuckled against her lips before giving her a few more kisses. "Just wait till it's my lips and tongue feasting on you for an hour while my fingers work that delicious cunt."

 

A deep tremor took her and she released a breathy gasp. "I'll never survive it."

 

"Yes, you will. That and so much more," he promised, fingers tangling in her damp hair, pulling back and opening her neck to his greedy mouth. "If I have my way I'm gonna make you come at least a half dozen times a day for the next few years. I'm gonna make up for your drought with a flood." He grinned at her, feeling wolfish and wild, when she looked up wide eyed.

 

"You're crazy." She smiled at him, stroking his cheek.

 

"Crazy for you," he whispered, taking her hand and kissing her fingers.

 

"I love you."

 

"I love you too, Hummingbird."

 

Her head tilted, smile turning wobbly. "I love it when you call me that, but I don't know why you do."

 

He winced, feeling his face flush. He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck, knowing he was the world's biggest sap. 

 

She picked his chin up with gentle fingers. "Don't be embarrassed.  _ Please? _ Tell me."

 

"Because you're beautiful, and tiny, and everything about you makes me smile," he told her, grasping onto the boldness she seemed to bring out in him. Her responding smile filled his chest, made his heart give a hard thump. He reached up and brushed the wet tendrils of hair off her face, soaking in her happiness, still finding it hard to believe he was the cause of it. "But also because until recently you were wary of me," he husked, "and us, even though you couldn't bring yourself to stay away and I couldn't stop doing things to coax you into trusting me."

 

Her bottom lip gave a bit of a wobble before she tucked it between her teeth, thick lashes brushing her cheeks as she closed her eyes for slow beat. Then his face was in her hands and she was kissing him, tongue searching, lips sucking, and teeth nipping. He gave it right back, drinking her down like a man dying of thirst. 

 

Eventually she pulled away to let them breathe and resting her forehead against his. "You're the sweetest man alive, Jon Snow."

 

He chuffed and rubbed her nose with his. "I don't know about that."

 

"I do." She kissed him once more before slipping off his thigh and standing up between his legs. 

 

"Where you going?" he asked.

 

"You took care of me, so it's my turn to take care of you," she murmured, her grin sly.

 

He wasn't about to say no to that. Giving her a grin of his own, he waved a hand over himself. "This body is yours. Do your worst." 

 

Wickedness gleaming in her ocean eyes she proceeded to drop down between his spread thighs, nails dragging along his skin before she leaned forward and licked once around his balls, straight up his shaft and then three times around the head.

 

"Jesus Christ," he hissed out slowly.

 

She was smiling up at him, her lips a breath away from his cock.

 

_ Fuck, that was a beautiful sight. _

 

It only got better as he watched her take him in hand and lick around the head again, before wrapping those luscious lips over him and sucking him into her hot mouth.

 

" _ Fuck _ ."

 

He barely got that out before her other hand joined the first, both wrapping around him and started to slowly slide up and down as her mouth did the same. Long, deep sucks of the head before circling it with her tongue only to suck some more.

 

She pulled off of him with a pop, but her hand kept going– stroking, twisting, and squeezing from base to tip and back again. Her touch just right, not too light, not too rough. Every once in awhile she would reach down and massage his balls. She was keeping him on the edge, switching back and forth between her mouth and hands for what seemed like forever.

 

She was making him fucking high.

 

His eyes had long since rolled back in his head, and he had moaned, hissed, and grunted out more cuss words than any filthy mouthed pirate. Her hands were stroking him again and he knew he'd probably blow the second her lips touched him. He was so fucking close.

 

_ She could give amazing head, but her husband wouldn't go down on her? _

 

_ Selfish bastard. _

 

"Are you ready to come for me, Jon?" she purred.

 

"Fuck yes," he breathed out, trying to open his eyes but he just couldn't with the way her thumbs were rubbing over that sensitive line of skin at the head of his cock.

 

They flew open when she let him go though. He thought…

 

She stood up, smiling wickedly as she bent over at the waist– leaning all the way over until her mouth was hovering over his cock. She grasped it in one hand. "Be still so you don't get hurt, okay?" she whispered, soft lips brushing the sensitive head as she did. "I'll do all the work."

 

Her hot tongue swirled around once and then again before she slid her lips over him and sank  _ all _ the fucking way down until he hit the back of her throat, swallowing the second he got there.

 

" _ Holy fuck! _ "

 

She quickly planted her hands over his thighs to help hold him still while she pulled all the way back up and sank right back down again. Once there she bobbed, letting him hit the back of her throat over and over again. The heat, the wet velvet glide of her tongue, the sucking pulls. It was all too much.

 

His stomach and balls tightened, hands gripped her head of their own accord, eyes crossed, his whole body shuddering. "Fuck, Dany, I'm gonna come," he grunted out a warning.

 

Humming, she pulled up just a bit then sank down again and swallowed his head down her tight silkened throat.

 

He exploded like a fucking cannon.

 

She pressed down over him a little more, sucking and swallowing everything he gave her until he was a completely spent, shuddering blob.

 

_ Never in his fucking life had he ever… _

 

_ He was putting a ring on her finger tomorrow. _

 

She slowly pulled off of him– lightly sucking the whole way– then gently let him slip from her mouth. Licking her full reddened lips she squatted between his legs and rubbed his thighs. Maybe helping the blood get back to his brain. "You okay up there?" she giggled softly.

 

He only managed a groan in response.

 

She stood up and cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, smirking against his lips. "You're welcome."

 

He felt her start to pull away so he grabbed her. "That was… Holy fucking hell, Dany. That was the most amazing thing ever. I fucking love you so fucking much," he panted.

 

She laughed, stroking his face before planting a kiss to his forehead. "It's amazing what you can do with no gag reflex, and I had to do something to get us on a more level playing field." She winked, then straightened up and adjusted the water so they could shower, he guessed.

 

"You just blew me outta the park. I doubt there's anything I could do for you to top that," he groaned and tried to rub some feeling back into his face.

 

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," she said, smiling at him as she swayed under the water wetting her hair.

 

He leaned his head back and just watched her as she washed her beautiful body, wishing it was his hands gliding over her soapy skin. Maybe later, once his body worked again.

 

She was so fucking gorgeous, inside and out, and he the luckiest bastard on earth, because she was his.

 

—

  
  


They managed to actually shower without getting any dirtier and were getting dressed again when knocking sounded at the front door, followed by Ghost's barks.

 

“Are we expecting anyone else today?” he asked. Robb usually texted before he showed up, not that Jon had checked his phone in hours.

 

“No, not that I know of. Maybe Tristan left something?” she muttered heading for the door.

 

He was getting his pants on when she called for him, her voice high and anxious. He hobbled to her as quickly as he could and found her leading two men in suits into the living room.

 

He went straight to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her temple in hopes of calming her down. Ghost sat down at her feet, leaning into her other side.

 

“Jon, this is Detective Blackwater and his partner Detective Payne. Detectives, this is Jon Snow,” she introduced their guests, her voice sounding a bit stronger.

 

They all nodded at each other and went through the ‘nice to me yous’. Blackwater was a fairly fit guy with thinning dark hair. Late forties, early fifties Jon guessed. Payne was younger by twenty years at least, baby-faced, short and stocky with brown hair and alert eyes. He screamed eager rookie cop.

 

“They want to ask us some questions about the robbery,” Dany said, looking up at him, the worry evident in her eyes.

 

He gave her a tight smile and then the detectives too. Maybe the calmer he was, the calmer she’d be. “Y’all wanna have a seat?” he asked, waving them over to the couch.

 

“After you,” Blackwater said.

 

He and Dany took one side of the sectional, while the detectives took the other. Her ass was barely in the seat before she jumped up again. “I’m so sorry. Can I get y’all something to drink? Tea, coffee, anything?”

 

His stomach clenched seeing her so nervous. She'd been doing great the last couple of days. If she had an attack with them there… He didn't want to think about how upset she’d be. It was a struggle not to order them out then and there.

 

“Thank you, Ms. Targaryen, but we’re fine," Blackwater told her.

 

She sat back down beside Jon and he took her hand in his and immediately began counting with his fingers, each squeeze slow and deliberate. He'd looked up tricks to ease anxiety over the past week, figuring she'd need help one day and wanting to be able to provide it. He got through three rounds before she realized he was trying to help her. She smiled at him, eyes round and glassy, but didn’t stop him, so he kept going. 

 

Neither one of them had really been listening to the detectives, they seemed to understand though.

 

Blackwater cleared his throat and once they nodded at him he started again. “We apologize for bothering you both and having to dredge this up again. We’ll try to make it as quick and painless as possible. We saved the two of you for last, since you were the most injured, Mr. Snow. You look to be healing nicely.”

 

“It was really rough those first couple of weeks, but thanks to Dany," he smiled over at her, "I’m doing better than the doctors hoped." He looked back at the detectives. "We haven’t really heard anything about what happened after, other than them being arrested. You still have them both, right?” he asked.

 

“Oh yeah. They’ve been locked up since it happened,” Payne said, speaking up for the first time. He was pretty enthusiastic about it too.

 

The whole experience had been lurking in the back of Jon's mind since he'd woken up in agony, stitched and stapled together, tubes running everywhere, but he'd tried to keep it there. Which hadn’t been too hard with all he'd been dealing with, but it was all flooding back front and center now, making his chest tight and stomach roll. It was a miracle he and Dany, or anyone else survived that day.

 

“Um, the other boy who got shot, is he okay?” Dany asked.

 

“He is, we saw him late last week. He’s zooming around on his crutches,” Payne told her with a reassuring smile. 

 

“We’ve seen the video footage and talked to everyone else," Blackwater cut in, getting them back to business. "Hate to ask, but we need you to walk us through what happened. It’s standard procedure unfortunately. Neither of you are considered anything other than victims.”

 

He and Dany exchanged a long nervous look and came to a silent decision. They told them everything they could remember, the retelling slow and detached, then answered a few more questions for them. Dany handled it well, considering, but she kept her hand tight within his so he could continue doing his trick. It honestly helped Jon too. He had more anxiety about it than he'd acknowledge before then– if breaking out into a sweat and fearing he'd empty his guts onto the floor were any indication. 

 

“It'd be good if you both were at the arraignment next Thursday," Blackwater suggested. "The better showing we have the more likely the perps will plead guilty. You won’t have to speak at all, you would only be there as a show of force so to speak. Would you both be comfortable with that?" he asked. "It isn’t required that you be there, but I believe it'd help get the judge to set a huge bail, keep them locked up until the trial.”

 

Dany eyes were huge as she stared at the detectives. “They could be released?” she asked, calmer than Jon expected.

 

“It’s unlikely, but still possible,” Payne answered with a solemn nod.

 

_ Fuck, he never once thought that might happen. _

 

Dany squeezed his hand and he moved his focus from the floor back to her. “We don’t have to go, if you don’t want too,” he said, trying to assure her, or maybe himself. 

 

He didn't know if he could see the bastards again without trying to kill them, and the fuck if he was letting anything else upset her, they could manage without them.

 

“Yes, we do,” she told him, voice hard, blue eyes alight and glinting with anger. “They have to pay for what they did to you.”

 

Her fierce declaration, that utter, complete protectiveness, snatched the air from his lungs and had his eyes burning. He looked down at the floor to get ahold of himself, then gave a nod before meeting her eyes again. They had softened considerably, brows pinched and upturned in worry.

 

He pulled her against his chest and hugged her, looking over her head at Blackwater and Payne. “Tell us when and where.”

 

—

  
  


The detectives and their questions seemed to have cast a shadow over them, not to mention the looming court appearance they would make in a little more than a week's time. 

 

Neither of them wanted to think about it, let alone talk about it, both jabbering any sort of nonsense they could think of to steer clear of the subject. But it didn't work, they would always fall quiet, sinking into the swirl of memories until one or the other pulled them back to the surface with worry filled eyes. 

 

Swinging on the porch and watching the sunset was only a short reprieve. They'd tried watching TV, but couldn't concentrate. Playing fetch with Ghost worked for a time until he got tired and curled up in his bed and promptly fell asleep. 

 

So they gave up and went to bed themselves, hoping a good night's sleep would reset things. 

 

They should've made love, let themselves fall into a sated sleep, but they never made it past cuddling and a few kisses. Instead it was fitful, both tossing and turning. So he wasn't surprised at all when Dany began to whimper sometime during the night. On top of their anxious nerves, she hadn't had a nightmare in nearly a week. He hated to think it, but she was due.

 

Reaching out, he ran a palm over her back, hoping to soothe her out of it, but it wasn't to be. As soon as he touched her, she flipped to her side, hands reaching and grasping, pulling at his arm, legs kicking as she cried. 

 

He managed to grab her hands and keep her from hurting his arm, but didn't move fast enough to stop her foot from colliding with the rod in his leg. The pain was so sudden and severe he thought he might vomit then and there. He rolled over with a strangled roar and curled into a ball, protecting himself as he did his best to wait out the worst of the pain, breathing through it while she continued to fight her demons behind him.

 

"Don't take him. Please don't. Jon, help me, please!" she begged. "Ray! Not Ray. Please don't let him take him. Jon, help me!"

 

Every jerk of her limbs sent another jolt through the bed and into his leg, his shoulder too. He had to get up, wake her up, something. Reaching above him with his good arm, he grasped the bed post and pulled himself halfway up, pressing his hand into the mattress to get him the rest of the way. Between the pain and exertion he was already covered in sweat, stomach rolling. He turned on the light, glancing over his shoulder at her. 

 

Still trapped within the turmoil, pale and flushed at once, face tear soaked, her body twisted and thrashed, pitiful cries breaking through his pain. 

 

He caught a flailing hand and shook it. "Shhhh, Dany. Wake up, love," he gasped. "Please."

 

Nothing. Just more of the same.

 

Mercifully, the pain in his leg had eased down to a pulsing throb, instead of the blinding explosion of agony it had been. Still, he would've given his soul for a shot of morphine right then. While that wasn't an option, his pills were. He couldn't help her like he was. One wouldn't hurt, he'd throw the rest away tomorrow. A quick look in the nightstand produced one. He swallowed it down, chasing it with a drink of water, Dany still whimpering behind him, mumbling his name, and for the unknown Ray.

 

Whether the pill would work or not, the cool water sliding down his throat gave him an idea. He poured a small amount into his cupped palm and carefully turned to Dany, gently patting it onto one cheek, then the other.

 

She woke with a start, bolting upright and sucking in a great gasp of air. He released one of relief. 

 

Wide, wary eyes locked onto his, her chest heaving, hands trembling as they covered her face a moment later. A small choked sob broke free and tore at his heart as he watched her shoulders shake.

 

He couldn't get to her like he wanted, the searing throb in his leg taking up nearly all of the space inside him. He reached for her instead, running a hand up her thigh. "C'mere, Bird, let me hold you."

 

Wiping at her eyes, she scooted closer and tucked herself against his chest, but she had barely stilled before she pulled away and looked at him, brow deeply creased and fretful, fingers rubbing down his clammy face. "Jon? You're all sweaty, and pale. What's wrong?"

 

"I'm all right," he whispered, exhaustion suddenly crashing over him like a wave. "Are you?"

 

"You don't look all right," she said, ignoring his question.

 

He dropped his head to hers, his eyes falling closed. "I will be. Just bumped my leg." 

 

" _ Shit _ . How bad is it?"

 

"Shhh, it's getting better. I took a pill, I'll be alright. C'mon, let's lay down," he tried, both of them needing a distraction, but she pulled away again. 

 

"You took a pill?" she whimpered. "God, I hurt you didn't I? Did I kick you?" She scrambled back, looking him over, frantic. "Let me see."

 

_ Fuck, why did he tell her that? _

 

"Dany, shhh, it's alright," he shushed her, trying to gather her back against his chest. "I'll be alright. It was just a small kick."

 

"Oh God, Jon! You're bleeding!"

 

He looked down as she crawled from the bed, and sure enough he was. Three, small, but bright red trails dripped from the two pins at his knee, and from one at his ankle. The pain had let him know it was pretty bad, but he didn't think—

 

Dany dropped to her knees in front of him, a wet cloth in one hand and antiseptic in the other, tears running down her cheeks. She gently dabbed at the blood pooling around the pins in his knee and he hissed, unable to hold it in. "I'm so sorry. I'd never hurt you, you know I wouldn't," she whispered. 

 

"I know, love. I know you wouldn't," he gritted out, another wave hitting him, his stomach pitching dangerously.

 

Maybe it was the pain, the nausea, or the stress, because he couldn't blame it on the meds– they hadn't fucking kicked in yet– but he chose to pick at a different wound. "Bird, can I ask you something?" he grunted, and sucked in a breath, even the soft cloth against his skin torture.

 

She looked up at him, frowning, eyes rimmed red, but put a hand over his clenched fist and gave it a squeeze of reassurance. "You know you can."

 

Brushing some damp hair off her face, he tucked it behind her ear.  _ He loved her so _ . And while he knew he shouldn't–the timing sucked–he had to. For both of them. Because  _ fuck _ he needed a distraction from the pain, but mostly he hoped it would help her too. Or at the very least help him know how to help her. Help ease the nightmares. Stop her from avoiding things. Get all the secrets out. They couldn't keep treating each other like glass. They both did that way too much. 

 

He licked his lips, drew in a deep breath, and let the question fall. "Who's Ray?” 

 

She went stone still, eyes wide and unblinking, breath held. The color drained from her face, leaving pale, ashen skin behind. If he didn’t know better he would have sworn she just died right in front of him.

 

Heart pounding and lodged in his throat, he reached for her, cupping her cheek. “Dany?” he whispered, "It's alright, love. You can tell me. I'm not upset, I promise. I just want to hel—"

 

She tore herself away as if he'd spit something vile at her, standing up and walking towards the door. 

 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck. You selfish fucking prick!  _

 

He'd feared it since he met her. That she would walk away from him. And now she was because he was an idiotic ass who couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut. 

 

Teeth clenched against the coming torment he tried to stand, but fell back with a growling shout. “Dany, please," he gasped, the spike of pain stealing his breath. "I’m sorry. I just— wanted to...” 

 

She stopped, empty gaze focused on the floor as if she was at a cliff's edge ready to jump. He was frozen, heart like a boulder resting at the bottom of his churning gut, waiting for the end to come. She looked up, staring through him, eyes void of any emotion. Eyes like the dead. 

 

“Rhae was my son.”  

  
  
  



End file.
